


A Targaryen Conquest

by gianahennelly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Daenerys Targaryen, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Lyanna Stark, Dragonlord Jon Snow, F/F, F/M, Gen, Jon Snow Raises Dragons, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon has dragons, M/M, Multi, Ned Stark Lives, R Plus L Equals J, Robert Baratheon Lives, Slow start but worth it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 52
Words: 275,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gianahennelly/pseuds/gianahennelly
Summary: Arthur knew that their king was a smart, brave, and nobleman but he is no true warrior he was born to lead not to be down in the dirt and the muck. If he went onto the battlefield he would die, so Arthur creates a plan Ser Barristan will escort a man in Rhaegar's armor to the battlefield they were meant to make it off that battlefield but the man in his armor died and Rhaegar was forced to the east with his wife and child. Ned goes to the tower of joy to find a blood spot where Lyanna's body used to be, thinking that his sister was killed and Ned grows bitter it was only with his family's support did he move past his rage and sorrow. But there was a part of him that was always going to be bitter. All the while Benjen married Dacey Mormont and moved to Bear Island.14 years later news begins to spread that Rhaegar is indeed alive and the Targaryens will take back what is their's with fire and blood. The game of thrones unfurls in a new fashion as all kinds of characters fight for the throne. Meanwhile, Aegon and his wives decided the only way to take the west is to first take the east, while Maegor Blackfyre under the name of Aegon starts a civil war in the west fighting against a united Western Relm.
Relationships: Dacey Mormont/Benjen Stark, Grey Worm/Missandei, Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Original Female Character(s), Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Comments: 425
Kudos: 499





	1. Dead Or Alive

Rhaegar I

They were shining in like gems in the night, glimmering as they were hidden deep in the sands of the forgotten ruins of the dragons pits the soft whispers from outside told Rhaegar that he knew the guards would be making their rounds and sooner or later they notice the flickering orange flames licking against the torch.

When he saw them, he knew what they were even if no one told him, dragons eggs watching them glittering in the sands forced Rhaegar’s heart to pound in anticipation. His mind raced as all the possibilities about dragons finally seemed to come rushing back. He knew that dragons were gone and that they faded from this world a long time ago but now as he stared at the three eggs that were resting in the sand. Hope bloomed in his chest.

The cool moist darkness enclosed around Rhaegar as he crept through the darkness letting the shadows cling to his tired form as he dropped down to one knee. His fingers shifting through the sands with ease. The gold sand almost seemed to be taunting him as his finger brushed over each egg shocked at the warmth that came billowing off them.

The egg to the right was a dazzling crimson whose scales looked like fire glinting in the light. The egg in the middle of the sand was a radiant silver with dazzling golden accents running along the center. While the egg to the left was a purple the color of poison with flakes with green

The moment that he saw them he knew that he had to adjust his plans the song of fire and ice had to happen. It was more important than ever. When Rhaegar rose, his mind went to Lyanna who was hidden in Dorne awaiting his return. Who knew if he would ever return but one thing was for sure he could not afford to lose? This war would cause a pivotal moment in the history of Westeros.

But even if with these new eggs, Rhaegar knew that he had no clue how to hatch the eggs so no matter the outcome of the war he wouldn't even know the first steps to awaken the magic not only in his blood but his eggs.

But first, he had to win the war and win the war he would. 

However, he did not know what his men were planning, and they would not allow their king to fall on the battlefield. While Rhaegar was hidden away in the shadows finding the last hope for his family.

Arthur and the king's guard were hidden in the shadows as cool violet eyes were locked on his brother, Barristan had a gentle look in his light blue eyes as he thought about his prince and the secret hidden in the south. He did not know much about Lyanna, but he knew that his prince and one of his closest friends hid his wife away in the south.

But why? Why go through all this trouble when he had a wife? Indecision and confusion ate away at the mind of the old knight as he looked over to Whent and Gerold both of whom knew everything that he did not.

Though no one knew more than Arthur the sword of the morning and the closest friend to the prince now stood firm a cold look in his eyes as the roar of the city fell on deaf ears the battle of the trident would be happening even Robert and the rebellion is camped out ready to make their move on the capital.

“If Rhaegar goes onto the battlefield he will lose his life, he is skilled, but Robert has power and strength and fury that would let him mow down everyone in his path including our prince. We cannot let that happen. So, I have a plan.” Arthur spoke in an ominous voice.

Though all the knights in the room could see the worry that was fluttering across his eyes as he gave them a grim stare, one that screamed I know what is happening even if you do not. A darkness fell over all of them as the air began to still and this tension settled into the room.

“What are you suggesting?” Confusion flooded Whent’s voice.

Ser Martell had a dangerous look fluttering across his own face. There was a part of him that was bitter and cold for what his prince did to his own family. But there was a larger part of him that had to be loyal to the crown and that part was the one that was keeping him here with us instead of with his family.

His family had as much to lose as the rest of us and if the city was sacked, he knew that he had to be here not for his prince but for his family. Arthur seemed to be either ignorant of Martells plight or he just did not care. Instead, his mind and his worries are with his prince, his best friend who could lose his life and he would not even be there to protect him. He would die on that field and he knew it.

“They are never going to stop looking for him. We can only hope to bide time and hope that we will have a chance to fight back later. Whent, Bull, and I will take Rhaegar to the tower of joy. Barristan you will go to the battlefield under the appearance that you are staying at your prince's side. Martell will dress in the prince's armor and make an appearance on the battlefield. Let people see you then slip out with Barristan back to Dorne. They have the numbers and with what the king is doing there is no way that we can hold onto support. But one thing is for sure we cannot trust Jamie. The boy claims to be loyal to the order but I know that he is still under his father's thumb. He must not know about this plan, if it works, they will think that he died on the battlefield.” Arthur spoke in a cold voice.

Arthur’s eyes were fierce and cold as he studied the men before him, he did not say it, but they all knew that there was a chance that none of them would make it out of this alive. There was a chance that Robert would go ballistic and kill whoever was dressed up in the black armor with the ruby red dragon. 

A silence fluttered throughout the room as the knights stared at each other, were they really talking about this. About going against their princes' wishes but here they were standing firm men leering into the darkness as this stilling silence fluttered over the room as for a moment, they all just listened to the roar of the men around them.

Meanwhile, Rhaegar had sent the eggs off to Dorne the moment he found him, and now as he walked around the throne room giving Jamie a gentle smile love and warmth echoed in his eyes as he placed a gentle hand on the young knight.

Rhaegar saw him as a younger brother, a brave knight that he hoped would one day protect his children. Though now Rhaegar was not so sure now if that was going to happen, there was no word from the Lannisters. Rhaegar was under no false impression that the Lannister could be trusted but he knew that they might betray him but that is only if he lost this battle and he would not do that.

The loud roar of the throne room assaulted the ears of Rhaegar as his eyes scanned the room, doing his best to ignore the sight of his enraged father. There was madness clinging to his eyes, he knew that once this battle was over the people would scream for his head for all the things that he had done. The most he could hope for is throwing him in the black cells, the people loved Rhaegar, but they feared his father more.

The echoing screams of panic and the roar of boots slapping against the ground all swirled in the of the two men like a never-ending chorus.

“When I get back things are going to change,” Rhaegar spoke in a firm and hopeful voice

But something echoed in the back of Jamie’s mind telling him that there would be no next time that Rhaegar was going to leave for this battle and he would never come back. Something screamed within Jamie to ask Rhaegar not to leave but he stood mute watching the sight of Rhaegar walking away to his wife who seemed more than a little understanding and acceptance of the missing she-wolf and her connection to the prince.

Elia had love pooling in her eyes, as a slight undertone of worry began to fill her eyes as her fingers were carting nervously through the raven hair as fear clung to her obsidian eyes as she fought the urge to cry at the thought of losing her husband for good.

Her other arm was clutched to their son Aegon, whose fat baby fist was gripping tightly to her chest while Rhaenys clung to her leg. Both looked filled to the brim with terror, Rhaegar knew that they would be safer on the battlefield then they would be here in the castle with his deranged father.

He wished more than anything that he could send them away to Dragonstone where his mother and siblings were resting. He knew that they would be safe there with lord Darry, but his heart told him that this was where they would be placed in the most danger.

But his father would never let them go, lost in his paranoia, and his delusion he swore that Rhaegar would steal his throne. Now all he could do was hope that they would be safe here because there was no other place that they could be. Rhaegar snapped head over his shoulder, he looked back to Jamie. Rhaegar knew that he was close to his mother and Elia and that they would be safe under his protection.

His bright emerald green eyes stared back at Rhaegar, darkness fluttering over his face as if he could see his own deaf flashing before his eyes as he stared deeply at the gilded armor of Jamie. His gilded armor and shield gleamed in the light as he looked at Rhaegar with fear in his heart and cold dread echoing in his mind. 

Taking in a deep breath Rhaegar’s muscles began to tense as he started to make his way out of the throne room. The shadows of the hall clung around him as the darkness that had enclosed him started to seep into his mind. At first, he thought that they were signs of his madness or even his fear for the battle to come.

The shadows seemed to move with power and purpose as he heard whispers echoing in the air whisper that sounded a lot like his knights. Dark eyes greeted him staring off into the darkness greeting him.

In a flash of movement and the rustling of clothes fille his ears as sudden in a blinding flash, there was encasing darkness swirling around him. He could taste fabric in his mouth as the armor that had once been weighing him down was slowly being stripped away from him.

He could hear the whispers of the men that were supposed to be loyal to him

“Martell remembers just being seen in the armor then taking off and heading to Dorne. We will meet you at Sunspear to plan the next move.” Arthur's voice was husky and cold.

The moment that Rhaegar heard the voice he knew what this was, his best friend attempted to save his life. He knew that he should be happy, but he knew that if the battle was lost then his wife and children would be dead. Some would say that he is shit that he was the one that started this rebellion when he insisted on this song of ice and fire.

That he brought this on himself so he should just be happy that he is the one that is making it out of this alive. But his mind rushed to his brother and sibling that were resting on Dragonstone with their mother. Or his own children that were resting in the capital waiting for him to come home. Why would they hide him in Dorne? Why would he do this?

“Arthur” Rhaegar roared in outrage.

His fury was tangible and booming with each word that he spoke, but Arthur would not hear it. He gripped tightly to Rhaegar’s arms pulling him forward as he felt strong hands at his back and legs as he started to feel weightless.

“I’m sorry Rhaegar but at least some of you must survive. I know that you will be angry with me, but this must be done.” Arthur's voice was desperate.

Rhaegar knew that he was right that he would have died, he might have been good with a sword, but he was more of the book type. But Robert was the true warrior, he had a massive war hammer that had been ripping through the chest plate and heads of many people. Among them some of the greatest warriors of the west. There was no way that Rhaegar could win this battle and he knew it but that did not make the bitter taste that was stubbornly clinging to his tongue.

His body went limp as he let his knights carry him off as he thought back to his wife that was waiting for him to come home. Instead, he would be going home to another wife in Dorne and he could only hope that they make it out of this alive.

“Send word to my mother, get them to Dorne, and send people to get Elia as well. Promise me” Rhaegar spoke in a broken voice.

Knowing that if he left them in the capital there was no telling what would happen to his family when he was gone and he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try everything in his power to save them.

“Of course, Rhaegar” This time it was Ser Barristan that spoke.

Voices that disembodied and cold but filled with worry but Rhaegar knew that his knights would keep their word, but it made him think. If he were not going to be on the battlefield who would be.

What they did not know was that they were not the only ones creeping around the darkness, Varys saw what had unfolded and knew that he had to take advantage of this. There was a Blackfyre hidden in the east and a throne absent of a dragon lord.

While Pycelle was also creeping in the dark but he did not make any move he looked on in terror knowing that he could never speak about this or he would be the one that got killed.

* * *

Robert I

Blood erupted into the sky and rained down on Robert, he watched as the battle raged on, the thick gurgling water of the river that had once been a deep green. Now ran red with the blood of young boys and hardened warriors. Off in the distance, Robert could see a man with a sword in hand and his helm lowered.

Robert did not need to hear his angry bellows, he did not need to see his indigo eyes, he did not need to see his silver hair to feel enraged. To remember the reason that he was here, he was here because the woman he loved is locked away in a tower. That she was taken from her home and raped by that monster.

Robert would not let her get away, Rhaegar would not slip away from him like sand through his fingers. He would fight and take her back, in fact even now as he stood here firm and cold, Ned and his brother would make sure that they got her back. Robert did not care about her maidenhood if she would be his.

Everyone on the battlefield could sense Robert’s blood lust as it bubbled in his body until his blood was boiling in his vein and he rushed forward, his legs pumping but to him, it was like the world was moving in slow motion.

Hefting his mighty war hammer Robert pulled his hammer back with all the strength into his arm, hefting his hammer over his head, spinning the hammer so that the spikes were facing the head of his first victim on his way to Rhaegar. His eyes narrowed and it was like tunnel vision he was going to stop at nothing as his furry flooded his body.

Once he was within striking distance, Robert slammed the hammer down with all his might onto his head. Watching as the silver spike entered the skull of a young boy, in an instant, his eyes began to bulge as thick red blood trickled down his pale skin.

A wet pop sickening and echoing in the ear of Robert, a devious smile pulled at his lips as a mad grin pulled at his face. His eyes were wide with murderous energy as his knuckles turned stark white. His body was alive with power as he rushed forward without a single thought.

A sickening crunch filled the air as his head began to cave in exploding outwards, blood burst upwards sloshing loudly in Robert's ears, but it was like a buzzing ripping at his ears. His heart thumped loudly and happily in his ears as his blood seemed to be rushing in his ears. He grinned madly as he yanked back hard on his hammer slicing through his skin as easily as a knife through butter.

Heaving his war hammer that never once grew heavy as he slammed his hammer into the skulls into many people not stopping until he was in front of Rhaegar Targaryen. The black armor was taunting and cold as he leered at him. Murderous fury flooded his body as he slammed the head of his hammer into the chest of Rhaegar.

The whole world seemed to stop as they watched Rhaegar as he flew back 30 feet Robert stalked over to him, he could hear the chorus of Rhaegar bones breaking while blood spurted from Rhaegar’s mouth like a fountain. The soft gurgle of blood-filled Roberts ears as he stalked angrily over to Rhaegar.

Not once lifting the helm of the men that he is slain instead he hefted his war hammer over his head and slammed it down with all his might. As he roared with pride Ser Barristan looked on in terror and fear and the moment that they all watched the last dragon die the whole battlefield still as they looked on with terror, and doubt while the Baratheon men roared with pride.

The dragon's men looked on with doubt and fear flooding their stare as they thought about what would happen to their neck. All Robert could do is wonder how things were going in the tower of joy.

* * *

Lyanna I

Lyanna skin is clammy and cold as she shivered slightly as she clutched her newest babe to her chest as he suckled at her breast hungrily his bright indigo eyes that reminded Lyanna of Rhaegar.

He had snow-white curls, but he had the same curls as Lyanna. Though he had the long face of the Starks, he had the beauty of his father, and the older he got the more that Lyanna knew he would look like his father.

The babe’s soft cries and whispers filled the air as the sound of the slapping boots began to fill Lyanna’s ears ripping her from her thoughts. There was a crimson pool of blood that rested on the bed, Lyanna head lolled to the side as I watched the door slam open.

Rhaegar walked into the room with an outraged look on his face as he rushed over to Lyanna relief fluttering across his face as his shoulder sag and relief visibly ran over him. Though Lyanna was no fool she could see the despair that was echoing in his eyes even if they hate and fear were hidden in his voice.

His own bright indigo eyes were shifting from Lyanna to his son, there was love flooding his bright eyes as he looked almost at ease. Arthur was rushing into the room a chest in hand as he looked to Rhaegar and Lyanna. Pity flooded his heart as he knew that he was going to have to ruin their mood.

“There is something wrong? What?” Lyanna’s voice was cautious and filled with worry.

She was no fool and while she might have married a man already married that did not make her a fool, her eyes were scanning every inch of her lover's face. From the frown lines on his face to the divot in his head that showed the stress that his voice would not allow.

Rhaegar on the other hand didn’t want to, he wanted to rush his wife and his son out of here while he still could, while Lyanna might have been held in utter solitude the same could not be said for Rhaegar. On the way here he had heard it all and he knew that Ned was coming, and they could not be here when he got here.

“Robert thinks that he killed me, the kingdom fell, with Ned and Jon Arryn at his side, they slaughter the….” His voice broke.

Overwhelming grief slammed against Rhaegar like a never-ending wave ready to drown him at a moment’s notice. His eyes darkened from their bright indigo color to a dark violet that was filled with all the hatred that forced Lyanna to flinch away.

She knew even if he did not say it that there was something wrong with Rhaegar.

After a chilling moment, Rhaegar spoke as Arthur rushed about the room packing up whatever he thought that Lyanna needed.

“Robert sacked the city the Lannisters killed Elia but not before their men raped her then cut her in half, bashed in Aegon's head and slaughtered my daughter. They killed all that I loved all but the two of you, Robert took over the seven kingdoms and sent a fleet after my siblings. Daenerys my mother had a girl, then she died from complications. Viserys and Daenerys were taken east by Ser Darry who knows where they are going or when. We cannot seem to find them. I think that Varys is getting in our way. Ned stood by him after all that he had done. I know that you think that he would side with us, but your father and brother are both dead.” Rhaegar's voice was a storm of emotions ranging from manic and filled with fear, doubt, and confusion.

His form was disheveled and terror so bright and white-hot rage began to flood to his body as he looked down to his son and for a moment, he looked like his rage was going to fade away. The soft indigo eyes were locked on his son.

“There is a part of me that wants to name him Maegor after one of the most feared and powerful dragon riders of our family. But there is so much pain and hate attached to that name that it seems almost unfair to do that to our son. But when I look at him, I see the person that could either truly unite the kingdoms or burn them down. A force that could take back all that we have lost. But we cannot do it here. Ned is on his way and if he thinks that you are alive, he will never stop looking. Robert's rage knows no bounds. He will do whatever it takes to make you regret your choices. He will kill our son.” Rhaegar's voice quickened.

For the first time, both Rhaegar and Lyanna turned back to look at Arthur who had finally stopped moving a small lighter bag rested by the chest that had images of Valyria before the door staring back at them. Even though she did not know what was in the chest she knew that it had something to do with the dragon's blood that flooded in her son's veins.

“Aegon the first of his name was a force to be reckoned with; he had the might of dragons and used his power to fight to unite the kingdoms. Our son will do the same. We should name him Aegon, after his mighty ancestors. Sure, there were some Aegon’s that didn’t deserve the name, but this will not be the case with our son.” Lyanna’s voice boomed with resolve.

Rhaegar knew that she was right and he knew better than to argue not when they didn’t have any time, “Right now your brother is lost in his rage and will not listen but a few years from now maybe even a decade that might change. But for now, we must go. Jon, one of my closest friends, found us a place in the seclusion in the Summer isle. Ebonhead is where we are going but I will not stop until I locate my siblings. Until then we must go to the east. There is a ship waiting.” Rhaegar spoke in a cold voice.

Rhaegar jumped to his feet pulling his wife and newborn with him. They were heading east but who knew what this meant for the rest of the world in their absence. 

* * *

Ned I

The panic shouts of men filled Ned's ears, his heart was racing, and desperation came over him. He wanted nothing more than to go to his sister, but he had to be here to make sure that they took over the capital. Though Ned hated the Targaryens for what they did to his father and his brother and possibly his sister he did not think it was right for what they did to the children.

Ser Jaime Lannister sat on the throne of the dead king who lay at his feet, the panic yells from the soldiers filled his ears as he gave all the men a cocky taunting gaze as he started to rise.

Hysterical screams filled Ned’s ears as I looked back to see a dead little girl in one hand and a crushed baby skull in the other. Disgust might have filtered over Ned's face; it might have been one of fury or hatred. He could not say for certain, but one thing was for sure when he saw them winning the war, slaughtering children was not what Ned had in mind.

Robert walked in not once talking a single look at Ned or the dead children that the mounted would place at his face. He had this proud look on his face as he noticed the dead king at Jaime’s feet. Since when did dead children and a dead old man force a smile on his face, this was not the man that Ned knew but his body was cold and stiff. There was a dangerous aura around him that screamed I was not to be questioned.

Things were started to shift in the kingdoms and anyone with a brain could sense it, even Ned who is noble and did his best to avoid the game of thrones was now stuck in the middle of it and all he wanted was to rush back to his sister the last remnant of the family that he had left.

A murderous twisted look formed on Robert’s face; his comely feature dripped with blood spilling down his face as flesh hung from his hammer. A part of Ned thought of Rhaegar and his dead family. Any other time pity would well be in his chest for those that were being oppressed and bullied.

But then his mind went to his sweet and wild sister, a dangerous but sparkling personality and she was hidden away in that tower after beginning raped who knows how many times. Those were the thoughts that were running through his mind repeatedly as a never-ending loop.

He had promised Robert that he would see his ascent to the throne before running off to get his sister but that begs the question for every minute that they are here was his sister being beaten for the loss of the crown prince.

The mountain walked on the throne with a baby swaddled in a red cloak, with a dead 3-year-old resting in his other hand as he threw them both to the ground. Horror filled Ned’s chest when Ned noticed the babe that had been resting the cloak had not been moving. Hate-filled Ned chest and rage burned away any thought that he might have had.

Tywin walked into the room, the backstabbing lion that was stalking in the room like he did the whole realm a favor by stabbing his friends in the back. Robert’s hand went to his trusted war hammer that rested at the bottom on the throne for the Targaryen bladed thrones. A tremor rushed down Ned’s spine as the twisted black blades pommels greeted him, he knew that things were going to be different now.

Ned could see Ser Barristan, his teeth running across his bottom lip. He looked like he wanted to run away from all of this, but he knew that he would never make it out of the capital. So here he stood a frown on his face that made Ned think that there is no way that he would ever truly bend the knee to Robert no matter what he said.

“Rhaella died in the birthing bed but the children are alive, hunt them down and kill them, Ned take your men and go find Lyanna now I want my wife out of the clutches of the king's guard and I want it done now.” Robert roared.

Hate bubbled in the blue eye stare of Robert as Barristan flinched like he knew something that the others did not. Ned simply nodded his head and turned to give the Targaryen men one last look of pity. He knew that there was something that we were all missing, and Ned had a nagging feeling that it was going to end badly.

By the time that Ned had gotten to the tower of joy, the pace was empty as if no one had ever lived there, to begin with, only the silk white sheets with a crimson pool resting on the bed. His heart thundered in his throat and his mind race like he could not utterly understand what was going on.

His lungs were burning with panic and pain as tears pricked his eyes, blurring his vision to the point that he was stumbling into the furniture as he collapsed by the bed. His shoulder shook from the unshed tears and the sobs that racked his tired form. His fingers were gripping at the sheets as his chest deflated.

Bitter hatred flooded his body as he turned cold and indifferent, utter overwhelming fury flooded his body as he looked to see that the only thing left of his sister's bright life was a puddle of blood that those so-called honorable knights couldn't be bothered to clean up. A bitter rage was bubbling up in Ned's chest and he knew that he was never going to forget this moment and he would harp on it.

The Targaryens will forever regret this, they took his father, his brother, and his sister, he would not let them take anything else from them or the North. The next time that they step even a single foot onto any of the kingdoms the North would be there to put them in their place. He would not lose another loved one.


	2. Where Are They Now

Rhaegar II

Ebonhead is a city at the mouth of Sweet Lotus Vale on Jhala in the Summer Isles. To the east of Ebonhead is the island of Xon and Parrot Bay. Sweet Lotus Vale is a settled river valley located in southwestern Jhala. Jhala is the southernmost of the three largest of the Summer Islands, and the largest overall. Walano and Omburu are each less than half the size of Jhala, and it is because of the size of Jhala and its seclusion that Rhaegar and Lyanna chose this place to hideout. 

The spies that they had sent out had been silent about the whereabouts of Daenerys and Viserys and that did nothing to steady the panic and terror that was welling in the heart of Lyanna and Rhaegar both knew that silence would never be a good thing. Even in the few months that it took for them to get to this very island, the hidden villa was surrounded by thick bushy trees with thick blanketing trees. 

Robert had only been on the throne ten minutes when he saw to it that the faceless men were rushing to the east trying to find us. If not for Arthur and the white bull then boy, the prince and his new wife would be dead. They had already sent three assassins after them, when they were not looking over their shoulder, they were worrying that anyone would see them. 

Aegon was growing fast but the people of this island knew Aegon as Jon he was given the name after a certain crimson hair man got them this villa and this island to live in. Rhaegar took the name, Drake. Rhaegar was forced to dye his hair with a rare paste that he gets from Lys and sooner or later Aegon would have to do the same. 

Lyanna’s mind was flooded with confusion and doubt as she watched her husband, he was slashing and hacking away as sweat-drenched down his back and the brown paste that covered his solver locks was starting to melt. Lyanna could not help but smile as for a moment all that panic and fear that made it seem like she was drawing was gone from her lungs. In a few moments, this moment would end, and she would have to go back to the realization that her own family wanted her husband dead and their son as well. 

At this moment there was no missing Targaryen children that could be dead, his first wife and their children would not have been viciously murder. There was a part of her that wished she could go back and make a different choice but there was a larger part of her that was happy to have Rhaegar and their son and nothing else matter to her and that's what caused the overwhelming waves of guilt that seemed to be weighing her down each day   
She knew that the realm bled for her love and they would bleed once more when her sweet little Egg went back to take back what was so violently ripped from his family. That thought only forced Lyanna to look at her son, she expected to see him sucking on his toes or yanking at the blankets with his little baby fist. Instead, wide alert indigo eyes were glimmering in the light as snow-white curls were starting to grow in. 

His curls framed his angelic face as his fingers were digging into a bright crimson egg as his eyes sparkled with dazzling crimson flames flickering occasionally. The brightness in his eyes forces his mother to smile gently at the little babe. It was a Targaryen tradition and not one that they did often but now looking at the egg Lyanna felt a sense of wonder and joy peaked in her chest. 

Rhaegar and Arthur finished their sparing as I watched Ser Whent making his way into the courtyard the brightly colored bricks stared back at them all as they backed in the hot summer isle heat. Ser Whent seemed to be frantic as he looked at Lyanna and Rhaegar as he spoke his voice was rushed. 

“Your grace, my queen we have news, our spies came back with their tongues missing and some of them even lost their hands. We cannot seem to find the children and it is getting more dangerous. There is a party of stag men here on the port looking for any signs of the Targaryens. We cannot risk your life any longer. We will send more men out when the heat dies down. But wherever they are our men cannot seem to locate them. We have also lost contact with Jon. Last we heard he was in Volantis with the golden company.” Ser Whent spoke in a rush voice. 

Doubt and confusion sat heavy in the air as this unsteady tension passed over the small group, the white bull came creeping up not saying a word but let his eyes flicker to the prince. Fresh worry and doubt fell over his face as he thought about what might happen to them if those stag men knew that the young prince was endangered. Or that a Targaryen has three dragon eggs. 

Though the eggs had turned to fossils over the eggs, the prince was sure that they were going to hatch, and no one would tell him otherwise. They all knew that there were two more eggs hidden away in a chest that only Rhaegar knew the place, though as Lyanna moved a nearby hand to her stomach they knew that Rhaegar would be pulling out another egg and soon. 

It had been a long two years, there had been three attempts on the young prince’s life and now as this calms down their messengers come back with no hands or tongues. Those that did not know how to write were able to keep their hands. Someone was keeping them from finding the children but who.

“I will not stop until my sister and brother are found. They are at the mercy of others with only Ser Darry to watch them. He is an older man and he is not our Ser Darry. If we are going to make it, we are going to have to do it together. There is nothing more dangerous than a Targaryen alone in the world.” Rhaegar spoke in a cool voice. 

There was tension in the air as they all looked to their prince, they each studied the face of the young prince turned king. His face was solemn and cold as his indigo eyes darkened as he let out a heavy breath and took to his wife for a long steading moment. Letting his eyes start from the bottom of her feet to her legs then her stomach that was slowly starting to bulge from the budding life in her. 

After a long moment though something in him shifted as he spoke in a cool voice, “Fine, for now, we won't leave the villa, let them leave you are some of west most well-known knights we can not have you be seen any more than me.” Rhaegar spoke in a cold voice. 

He walked over to his son's crib leaning over as a ghosting smile of love pulled at his lips, his fear and anxiety about what happened to his brother and sister were hidden behind that smile. His mind raced as he thought about what might be going on and why no one could find them. Something had to be going on in the west that was keeping him from finding his brother and sister. 

Only time would tell. 

Varys I

Varys is a plump, bald, and effeminate eunuch. He has soft white hands were folded over a smooth piece that held the cursive words that could either save him or damn him depending on who he showed He powders his face and smells of lavender, lilacs, and rosewater, all of which were fluttering around in the air as he stood in the darkness waiting for his oldest friend the only one that he truly trusted in the world, the realm had grown silent since the fall of the Targaryens. 

It had only been two years but there were already whispering usurpers behind Robert's back and there was talk that there was going to be rebellion in the Iron Islands. They did not feel the need to follow Robert; he was not a dragon. Why should they care? The thought forces Varys to roll his eyes. There were no dragons. What was the point in who they served if they had the good of the realm? 

At least that was Varys thinking as he leered at the darkness watching it move into the shape of a person and the person that took the form in the shadows as a once thin man growing thick with age and time. Ever since the loss of his last wife, a Blackfyre and one of the last pure-blood dragon lords outside Old Volantis. They had a son together Aegon Blackfyre was hidden in the east the same age as the young prince that died. 

Illyrio was a slender, tall young man but after the loss of his late wife and after gaining wealth he gained weight to the shock of his longtime friend Varys. In fact, Illyrio has grown morbidly obese to the point that it was almost sickening. He has pig's eyes and fat cheeks, with a huge white belly and a pair of heavy breasts that sag like sacks of suet covered with coarse yellow hair. 

The further that he walked into the shadows the more of him Varys could see from his oiled forked yellow beard, he had crooked yellow teeth that forced a sour breath to waft out into the hour. Despite his bulk, he can walk lightly, to the shock of most. Even now as he walked out into the darkness Varys seemed to almost be visibly relieved that it was him and not anyone else. 

“Hello there, my friend” Illyrio’s voice was taunting. 

Ripping through the darkness as not even the soft sound of his feet slapping against the concrete could be heard. Varys eyes were still peeking out into the dark as he spoke in a lowered voice. 

“Hello, how are things progressing in the east?” Varys spoke in a coy voice. 

Usually, he would draw this out but there was something about never knowing who was lurking behind the darkness. Not with this new player Little Finger creeping around the castle after Lord Arryn became Hand, he brought him with him. His trusted council was now the master of coin. 

But any fool with eyes could see that he wanted the throne and that was not to be trusted and now Varys felt the need to always be looking over his shoulder and to keep his conversation short. It would take time for him to find all the trap doors and hidden passageways. 

Illyrio looked over Varys, a darkness fluttering across his face as he nodded his head heavily as his vision began to narrow and a darkness filled his words as an ominous and pressurized tone to them. 

“Our little mice have been doing quite a good job in keeping the spies of the other from being seen. The princes' spies had to be dispatched a bit more violently, but it was done all the same. They still think that Jon was the one that helped them get the villa in Ebonhead. Aegon is with Jon and Jon thinks that Rhaegar is in fact dead. We are keeping them all separate, Viserys is in Braavos now. We are keeping a close eye on him, and Aegon and we have spies keeping an eye on the young prince. Why put out chips on one dragon lord when we can have three. How are things here?” Illyrio spoke in a cool voice. 

Varys tumbled over his thoughts as his fingers were lacing along with the smooth silks of his robes as a small smile pulled at his lips. Though the smile had no warmth to it as Varys leaned on the balls of his feet ready to disappear into the shadows at a moment's notice. 

“Things are shaky here I'm not sure if Robert would be a good king, he is not a good man that much is clear, he whores, drinks, and kills with any forethought. He slaughtered children and did not think twice about it and he smiled at the sight of them. He might just be driven by grief because of the loss of his late betrothed. As far as he knows she is dead, I hope that in the year he will prove to be a wise leader. The rebellion in the Iron Islands will be a good testing case to see what kind of leader he will be.” Varys' voice was smooth and silky like oil as he looked over to Illyrio. 

Fat grubby fingers are stroking his chin as his oil golden beard stared back at Varys, there was a tension that pasted over the two of them they had been thinking about a way to gain more power and now they had 3 Targaryens to bet on and a fourth king that could or could not be the key to holding the kingdoms. 

For Varys he claims that he is doing it for the betterment of the realm, while Illyrio’s motive was clear as day. He wanted more power, more money, more everything he wanted, everything there was to life and there was only one way to get that to be on a throne with absolute power. What better way to do that by taking the Iron throne? 

Both stood in utter silence as they looked to the darkness surrounded by the skulls of the dragons from old; the biggest of them was the massive head of Balerion. Even though he was just a skull he was as imposing in death as he was in life. They were mystified by the sight, but it brought up something that they did not want to think about now. 

“The eggs you have procured from Tyrosh” Varys spoke in a cool voice. 

They had a plan and there was one person that could hatch those eggs. It was one of the Targaryens, they say that they will not hatch unless they are in Dragonstone, but who knows if they were born on Dragonstone in their blood were the hidden secrets of dragon eggs. Now there were there in the possession of a lifelong friend. 

“Yes, I have them when the time's right I will present them to Daenerys and Viserys, let us see what they do with them and what they will do in the coming years. But we cannot underestimate the other. The North will always remember, and the stag will never let the Targaryens come back to this land unless it is to die.” Illyrio spoke with a casual voice. 

There was a darkness that passed between the two of them as they knew that if any of the parties found out that they were playing any of them then they would both be dead. The whole world thought that Rhaegar was dead all but Rhaegar and his brood and that was how they were going to keep it until they knew what to do next. 

“For now, we keep an eye out and wait,” Varys spoke as he disappeared into the shadows and faded from sight. 

Illyrio returns to the free cities so that one day he would be able to claim the Targaryen children one day. 

But while they were planning in the south there were things happening in the North. 

Ned II

Ned was cold and bitter as he leered out the window sinking further into the chair as he frowned at the silence echoing in the room. The soft crackling of flames popping against the wood filled Ned’s ears helping to ease him into silence. Leaning back into the chair Ned watched as Maester Luwin walked into the room. 

“Sir, Lady Catelyn is here with your son Robb.” His voice chilled and in control 

His pale blue eyes were locked on Ned as he searched his face for any emotions, though Ned’s face was a blank icy slate not allowing any emotions to peak through his mask. After a long moment, Ned nodded his head slowly. 

Ned shook his head begrudgingly as he slowly and carefully rose from the chair as he moved his way out of the room. The cold frigid air swirled around Ned as he made his way down the steps and out of the castle the cold gray sky as litter with thick blanketing clouds blocked out the sun. Allowing for no warmth in the air, the pale light bathed the young lord. Horses with deep brown eyes stared back at Ned as young mares’ hooves crunched as they rushed through the light layer of snow. 

As the carriage came to a stop Ned's heart boomed in his chest the last time that he saw this woman that he was forced to marry to make up for the fact that his brother had died was about to be before him. With a son that he did not really know but luckily for him was still just a babe. Indecision ate away at him as Ned’s mind raced back to the blood sheets to the disheveled room and the missing king’s guard. 

It all drove him mad knowing that the last remnant of the dragon forces was running off who knows where and he was forced to live with the fact that he will never truly get justice for the sister that he lost. Ned was so lost in his rage and confusion that he did not even notice the woman that was descending the stairs of the carriage.

Bright blue eyes greeted Ned, as well as thick red curls rolling down to her lower back. She was dressed in the fine wool dyed blue and red for her Tully house. A fish was embroidered on the back of her cloak as she held a red face babe in her arms. She had a sweet smile on her face as Ned looked at his son. 

Shocked to see that there was no sign of the North in his face at all, he didn't have his father's gray eyes that changed with his mood, or his thick brown hair, he didn't even have the long face of the North. If not for the fact that Catelyn was a maiden, then Ned might think that this was someone else child. 

Looking at her Ned had no clue what to do but give her a pleasant smile as his pink lips quirked into a small half-smile. For a moment looking into his son's face, Ned’s bitter resentment and hate for what happened just a few short months ago. His sister's death still haunted him, but he had a family now and that is what he needed to be worried about. 

The wet nurse was all but running about with panic in her eyes as she pulled Robb from his mother's arms as they rushed past their lord, carefully rushing past as they fretted over the new lady of the Winterfell. 

There was this strange silence that ran over the open courtyard; even the slamming of a hammer against an anvil seemed to fall on death ears as Ned watched his wife come closer. His attention was locked on her bright blue eyes that reminded him of the Rivers in the Riverlands. Ned could see the way that her bright blue eyes locked on him, studying every inch of his face like she was trying to find any similarity to his dead brother. 

“My lord husband I'm glad to see you faring so well after the bloodbath at the trident I was sorry to hear about Lady Lyanna,” Catelyn spoke in an almost firm and cordial voice. 

Though she did have a smooth and apologetic undertone as her gentle blue eyes gave Ned a conservative state, all Ned could think about was the death of his sister and he couldn't be sucked back into that despair and rage not at the moment. 

Ned’s tongue felt like a useless hunk of meat in his dry mouth as Ned looped his arm into her as they both made their way out of the courtyard. Ned knew that this would be a long way before he got past this rage and hate but now, he had a family that he needed to be here for them. The Targaryen children were not a threat not now so he would focus on his own children. 

Ser Darry I

The heat of Braavos washed over the older knight, the scent of lemons filled his nose as Viserys the young silver hair prince was sullen and quite the thought of losing his mother was more than he could bear. 

His lilac eyes were cold and dark, twisting with hatred at the thought of his sister, the old knight knew that he loved his sister but there were times that he would catch his young prince looking at his sister in a devious light that unsettled him 

But there were other times that he was so kind and gentle that Ser Darry did not know what to make of the prince but with Rhaegar dead and even if he was alive, the mad king declared Viserys his heir. So Viserys would be heir to the iron throne no matter what happened to Rhaegar or his children. 

That thought alone force Ser Darry to still as he looked down to Daenerys watching as she laid in her crib, her giggles filled the air as she looked up at Ser Darry with bright violet eyes locked on the old knight forcing a warmth to spread throughout the older man chest spreading to every inch of his body. 

The bright golden sun flooded the room and a wave of heat washed over Ser Darry but Daenerys only let out a shrill giggle as her fingers clutched at the hair as if she was holding onto the heat not the least bit brother by it. 

His mind raced with the worries of the realm, there had to be at least 6 different attempts on the prince and princess lives. These next few years would be some of the hardest that the old knight had to live through and with his old age, who knew how long he was going to live before someone betrayed these children. 

Terror bubbled in his chest as he looked at the sweet girl knowing that at any moment she and her brother would be dead the moment he died and that worried him more than anything but at the moment this was what they were going to focus on surviving these first couples of years. The rest will come with time.


	3. Twin Dragons

Rhaegar III

It had been a long 2 years and nine months since the loss of their seven kingdoms and now the prince forced to be a king without any kingdoms was resting in a large great hall that he knew would always be empty. There was still no word from his siblings and the king was starting to worry that his siblings were just as dead as the rest of the family. 

“Please your grace I urge you to reconsider, your brother and sister could be lost to us. There is no point in you putting your life at risk.” The white bull spoke in such a matter of fact voice. 

As if he had known this whole time that the young Targaryens were dead, but whether it was from denial or stubbornness the king refused to believe that any Targaryen would die with such a whimper snuffed out in their sleep. 

Rhaegar’s eyes shifted to his son who was giggling as bright indigo eyes were locked on the crimson egg that never seemed to leave the little boys side, Rhaegar knew that Dany would be the best choice to be his bride they are only a year apart, and would be perfect for each other. 

He knew that and it was one of the reasons that made him want to take up his search once more, but it was not one of the main reasons. 

Lyanna shook her head heavily like she knew what her husband was thinking before he could even say the words, she had one hand on her stomach while she hummed gently rocking in a chair as the midwives fretted about her needing to stay in bed. During this pregnancy, Lyanna grew even larger than she was with Aegon. 

“They are my siblings and I'm not going to lose them; they are the last of the Valyrian bloodline we have lost our homeland. All we have is each other and our shared history. I won't lose them, send them, Gerold you will lead them to go to each free city and take as much time as needed but find them.” Rhaegar spoke in a booming voice. 

Gerold was considered to be fierce, despite his old age, and in his heyday, he would have been stronger than Jaime who is making a name for himself now that all the best swordsmen no longer live in the west. 

The moment Gerold heard the orders he knew that he could not say no but that did not mean that he was not going to try to change his king's mind. Rhaegar could see the convection in his eyes but just the same as the fire of determination was flaming in the eyes of the young king there was no way that he was going to lose his family. Not after all that he had been through that they had been through just to get to this point. 

They might have argued more but fate decided otherwise, the queen doubled over in pain on the rocking chair. Her brows began to knit together as sweat dribbled down her forehead and the sloshing sound of her water breaking filled the air. Her smoke-gray turned a dark slate gray color.

“Arthur helps us attend to the queen; she is going to give birth,” Rhaegar spoke in a cold voice. 

Even as he spoke the king was jumping to his feet as frantic energy took over his body, he bounced nervously on the balls of his feet as he became worse than the midwives that had been fluttering around the young queen all day. 

Lyanna rolled her eyes as fresh waves of grimace rolled across her face, her fingers were digging into the chair as little baby Aegon looked up with wide eyes, he was always a happy baby and one up to no good even at his young age, he had the wild streak and the stubbornness. He might look like his father, but he was his mother's personality. 

Rhaegar snarled lowly as he stood and waved to Arthur, rushing through the hall with a light on his feet the king brought his queen to their quarters with the rest of the palace entering in a frenzy. Ser Arthur and Ser Gerold stood outside the door both with nervous looks on their face. As the handmaidens made it into the room the door shut behind us. 

The king places Lyanna onto the bed as her hair begins to grow dampened by sweat rushing through her scalp, the loud piercing screams of Lyanna boomed against the empty air, as Rhaegar dabbed her sweaty brow. Pain evident in her bright gray eyes that were darkening by the moment, as her brown hair seemed to darken to almost a black color from her sweat. 

She gripped tightly to Rhaegar’s hand with panic in her eyes as another round of loud never-ending screams echoed in the air. The louder the scream the more pain that flashed in her eyes, her lips pulled into a tight grimace as she squeezed the life from Rhaegar’s hand. 

Baby Aegon was still resting in the great hall where his fingers were ripping at the scales like he was trying to pry a baby dragon out of the egg with sheer determination. 

Rhaegar did his best to keep his face impassive but the pain started to become more evident as time went on. Rhaegar looked to be more in pain because his wife was in pain and not because she was crushing his hand, and she was crushing Rhaegar’s husband. 

Two handmaidens were fluttering around the room, while one was getting a tub and a small blanket so that they could clean the baby the moment that he or she was born. While the other handmaiden rested in between Lyanna’s legs. Her almond-shaped eyes looked up from between Lyanna’s legs, a smile pulled at the maidens’ lips as she spoke. 

“One more push Queen Lyanna, I can see the head” Rhaegar places a happy kiss on his queen’s sweaty brow as the midwife spoke in a quickening tempo

With a few deafening screams and the wailing of a child and the soft sighs of relief filled the air as Lyanna slammed her head back exhaustion written on her face, but she looked like she might fall asleep. On the other handmaiden rushed over cleaning off the babe, her silver hair came in on soft tufted curls, her soft pink lips were puckered as her gummy mouth greeted her father. She had smoke gray eyes that were lit up with love.

The unparalleled joy that flowed through the veins of Rhaegar was euphoric as he gave his wife a mad grin. The love in his eyes transferred over to Lyanna until she could feel the warmth of his boy moved over to hers. 

Loud screeches filled the air as Lyanna let out another pain-filled screech that forced fear into Rhaegar's heart, crippling and cold, as he struggled to stay calm. The joy that had once been filling the air was replaced with a shrill terror and panic.

The handmaiden went back down between her legs as Rhaegar grew panic as he spoke in a rushed tone. 

“What's wrong, why is she in pain?” His panicked and commanding tone shook everyone in the room. 

There was a fierce fire in his eyes flickering as bronze and green came alive. A wide smile pulling at the handmaid's lips as love pooled in her eyes as well as pride.

“You are having two babies; you need to push Lyanna.” The maiden spoke in a rushed voice as she went back in between Lyanna’s legs. 

Rhaegar looked taken aback, as Lyanna cried with both happy and pain-filled tears in her eyes as she let out another pain-filled shriek as the babe began to scream even louder. Looking at Ana the handmaiden she smiled gently as she bounced the newest babe Rhaegar at her bright gray eyes of the first twin. 

After a few more painstaking minutes and the second babe appeared though this babe had not been screaming instead had wide eyes and wet smiles greeted us all, other than her bright indigo eyes and black hair she was identical to her sister. 

The queen held the babe with soft but fierce smoke-gray eyes, she sucked hungrily at her mother's breast.

“I didn't expect two babes, but it would make sense why I was so much larger with this pregnancy. What should we name them?” Lyanna's voice is husky with emotion and exhaustion. 

None of them had time to think of names they were too busy trying to live to even try to pick out names. 

Rhaegar smiled as he looked down at the gray-eyed babe bouncing her in his arms. She gave him the look of a warrior, strong and independent that she would be a true warrior, one that all would both fear and respect. 

“Enyo” Strong and cool Rhaegar's voice echoed loudly in his wife's ears. 

Slowly they both turned to the newest of the two babes, her kind and gentle indigo eyes were that oozed with love and joy. 

“Meleys for your goddess of love and fertility. She will be a great beauty and an even greater lady.” Lyanna’s voice was cool and warm. 

Pride filled her eyes and Rhaegar was no fool. He picked up the way that she said you are as if they were not hers as well. The thought forced Rhaegar to let out a short burst of better laughter. 

“Welcome to the family Enyo and Meleys.” There was a soft smile on Lyanna's face as she looked down at her next children. 

There was a part of her that was sad because she knew that they would be forced to live the same lie that her brother lived and that was not going to change anytime soon. Not if they wanted to make it out of this alive if she wanted to see her children back home if she ever wanted to see her brother again. 

They would all be forced to lie. 

Robert II

The heat and the fan fair have long outstayed their welcome. The filthy masses of the city came to watch as lords and ladies among the 7 kingdoms rushed off the royal wedding and the feast that would come after it. It was the first time that the wardens and the lords of the seven kingdoms since the fall of the Targaryens.

Robert stood mute at the side of Jon, clearly bored with all of this; his eyes were focused on the northern lords, but he did not see Ned; he knew why. He needed to be home and they would not go south again, not after all that he had lost. 

A soft gale of wind forced Robert’s hair to brush against his shoulder, the sept began to envelop people closing around them. The Great Sept of Baelor is named after the Septon-King Baelor the Blessed who was a fool.

The heat poured down on Robert as he stood atop of Visenya's Hill, surrounded by a white marble plaza. Jaime otherwise known as the kingslayer was still a member of the king’s guard to the shock and dismay of most of the realm, his hand lovingly stroking the golden lion pommel of his sword. Many thought that it was shameful that he would be allowed to be a knight after he killed his own king. 

The sept is an impressive marble dome structure with seven crystal towers, each of which has bells. Only to ring on momentous occasions, such as the death of a king if the gods are good that might be soon. 

The lofty dome is made of glass and gold and crystal that shines in the light and around the doors leading into the building is a raised marble pulpit from which a septon can address a gathering crowd. 

Looking across the smooth marled plaza Robert could see Lord Jon as he pulled at the collar of his tunic. A smooth silk white tunic with sharp blue trim and a crescent moon and an eagle. His guards were dressed in fluttering blue silk. With one standing on either side of him. 

Robert could see the way that the corner of Jon’s lips threatened to pull into a sneer as he looked at the sky. 

The golden light shone down on bathing Roberts skin stifling in the warmth that enclosed him. Sweat threatened to fall from his pores at any moment. They started to make my way to the entrance hall, through the double-doors, is the sept-proper, with seven broad aisles which meet beneath the dome.

Its floors are made of marble, and great windows of leaded, colored glass and the seven altars are set about with candles. Though there were no candles today only colorful glowing light pooling in from the stain windows. 

Robert could hear Jon stopping to talk to a northern man, but Robert kept going until he was in the hall, I glared pointedly at the altar. Once the hall was flooded Robert walked down into the hall. He wore a black doublet with gold trim and a long flowing black cloak with an etched elk made of gold. The prancing beast taunted those that were still loyal to the Targaryens. 

Soon the whole sept was filled with all but women that Robert never wanted to marry but knew that he could not resist if he wanted to keep what he took. 

Robert watched as Cersei walked into the room with a vision of beauty and a cold stabbing pain filled Robert's chest. All he could see all he could think about was that he wanted nothing more than to Lyanna dressed in fine silks and her wild curls tamed for one day. 

Cersei is a strikingly beautiful woman, with golden hair, emerald green eyes, fair skin, and a slender, graceful figure. Cersei is willful, ambitious, and has a certain low cunning. She is hungry and greedy for power.

She wore a smooth crimson gown that brought out the green in her eyes, she walked gracefully on her father's arm both taking in long strong strides filled with purpose. Her cloak is elegant. A shimmering tapestry of crimson and gold stared back at me as the prancing dire wolf was entirely made from the onyx mined from the North. Her cheeks were peppered with a blush.

This would be his only choice now but to learn to love her but as they said their vows and the cheering boomed against his ears. All he could see was Lyanna standing over him with a superior look on her face like she knew something that Robert did not. It drove him mad at night but now. We would heal and the Targaryen would hunt down like the dogs that they are by Baratheon’s to come.


	4. Dire Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the chapter.  
> I have to go to work but I will try to update again  
> Make sure to comment and tell me what you think

Bran I

Lord Eddard “Ned” Stark sat on his motionless horse, his long brown hair stirring in the wind. His closely trimmed beard is shot with white. He has spent half his life training for war and the other half waging it, and his face conveys both authority and a haunting sadness. Since the loss of his sister, rage began to eat away at him. There had been silence from the east no one knew where the Targaryens were. 

The silence was haunting them all, many thoughts that Rhaegar was long dead but Ned had a sense that he might still be alive out there taunting him. No one saw his face. They saw a man walking around in his armor on the battlefield, but they did not see his face. He could still be alive, and no one would know. 

Ned was so lost in thought he did not even notice that his men were moving behind his back, he was accompanied by a dozen members of the household guard, all on horseback. Over their heads flaps the Stark banner: a gray dire wolf racing across an ice-white field.

South of the Wall the grass is still green, and the sun is shining, but the air is cold enough to cloud the breath of four guardsmen as they escort Gared toward the stump of a massive oak tree. 

Ned’s eyes were scanning the sky with worry as if he expected some monstrous beast to come down from the sky and snatch him up. A bitter part of him thought back to his sister's smiling face and the joy bubbled in her eyes as she spared with excitement bubbling in her veins as she slashed and hacked at Brandon. 

A warm smile pulled at his face as for a moment he let himself slip into his memories even if it was only for a moment. Ned’s son, Robb Stark who was named after Ned’s best friend and one of the reasons that he went off to war, stood at his back. Bran Stark, named after the fallen brother, that never got to truly live, was resting on a small pony beside his elder brother and personal hero. 

Robb's appearance favors his Tully side, with a stocky build, blue eyes, and thick red-brown hair. He is strong and fast even for a boy his age of 14, it was hard to believe that this boy looked nothing like his father, not a hint. But even with his lack of Stark features, Robb is his father's son, he has a keen sense of justice. Robb shares his father's devotion to honor. 

Then there is his second eldest son Bran, Bran much like all his other siblings aside from his elder sister Arya, favors his mother Catelyn in appearance, having the thick auburn hair and deep blue eyes of the Tullys. Bran is a sweet and thoughtful boy, nothing like his sullen and serious father. 

He is well-loved by everyone at Winterfell, something that he took after from his aunt who forced a twinge of pain to flutter in Ned's heart. Each time that he saw the wildness of his daughter made him think of all that they lost when both their uncle and aunt all died for one vain man's need to have more than he needed. 

Though like his siblings, Bran is also dutiful and tough-minded, also possesses a propensity for adventure and excitement; he yearns to see far off places one day and dreams of becoming a knight. It only made his father worry more that he would go south like his namesake and he might never come back. 

He could and might die. A shudder rushed down Ned's spine at the thought that he could lose anyone else in the south. He was young only seven and he swore that he would make it south and be a big shot knight like Ser Barristan the bold. 

Bran wore grey breeches and a white doublet, the sleeves and collar of which are trimmed with fur. On top of that, he wore a dark grey woolen surcoat with silver buttons, as well as fur-lined boots and gloves. Bran clasps his fur-trimmed cloak with a wolf's-head brooch of silver and polished jet which makes him look lordly. At least he thinks that it makes him lordly. 

Bran sat very still, watching the doomed man. He has never seen an execution before. The prospect of it terrifies him, icy cold dread rushed through his blood, forcing his whole body to come alive with terror. His hands were shaking so he gripped tightly to the leather gloves that clad his fingers. His mouth was dry with anticipation and panic like he knew that the worst was going to happen, and he was right, a man was about to lose his head. 

Bran tries hard to imitate his father’s solemn expression though he found himself struggling to do just that. His body began to turn numb as the winter winds began to rise and whatever pale light that had been breaking through the clouds was all but gone. 

The Guardsmen force Gared’s head onto the stump and this dangerous and almost ominous melancholy air as Ned begin to dismount. His ward, Theon Greyjoy, the young ward, and what was left of the Greyjoy line. After the revolt, he was taken as assurance, but Ned had come to love him in a way that he would any other son. 

Theon is a lean, dark, handsome youth who seems to find everything amusing, he is known for his confidence and his cocky smile. He is promiscuous and vain, but behind his arrogant exterior hides insecurities regarding his place in the North. He was a prisoner no matter how much he fought that feeling. He knew that he was never going to be a part of their family no matter how much he wished that it were not true.

Theon handed over Ned’s sword: Ice, a beautiful weapon, centuries old. Theon is the only man in the party wearing a Kraken sigil instead of a dire wolf. He was proud of his family despite his many shortcomings. He loved the memory of his house, but the true krakens were bitter cold people that would not give him a second look. 

Deep down hidden beneath the lust and hate Theon knew that it was true that there would always be a part of him that never belonged on the Iron Islands or even here in the North. 

Ned peels off his gloves and hands them to Jory doing his best to avoid the stare of the very boy that had a way of unnerving him. He did his best to give the boy a home that he could be happy in. 

But there was always a part of him that always kept the boy at arm's length that has a tendency to pull away from the boy and I knew that was going to ruin the boy's relationships with the rest of the Starks. 

Ned turned to look at Jory, a bull-necked warrior with a heavy mustache, his stern, and cold disposition was welcomed compared to the sacred looks that his children were trying to hide. Ned shook his head heavily like he was trying to shake away the thoughts that were floating around his mind like an endless loop. 

His body was stiff, and his strides were long and purposeful as he made his way over to the stump. Looking at the fighting boy who looked like he was fighting the urge to burst out into tears. His head was bowed as his lips were shivering and whimpering as he muttered intangible words under his breath. 

“They say you saw the white walkers” Ned spoke in a low voice. 

His body began to harden as his eyes darken as he looked down at the young boy who was looking up at him in terror. 

“I saw them no matter what the others say I saw them; I saw the white walkers.” His voice shook with the terror that his eyes could not show. 

Gared’s final words trouble Ned, who studies the condemned man’s face, judging his honesty. He could tell that he believed the words that spilled from his lips, Ned knew that he would not have any reason to lie. It is not like Ned would not kill him, after all, he is a disaster 

Bran watches from afar, his head slightly cocked, trying to make out what Grade is saying. There is a great weariness in Ned’s eyes as he places both hands on the hilt of his great sword. 

“In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm….” As Ned delivers the formal sentence to the condemned man, Robb moves closer to Bran.

“Keep the pony in hand and do not look away, the father will know if you do.” Rob whispers were soft as Bran looked at the poor young man about to lose his head. 

Bran knew that his brother was right and after his failed display at archery he knew that he had no choice but to do this. He wanted to make his father proud and he could not do that if he could not look at this after failing to do what his elder sister Arya seemed to have an easy time doing. Shooting a bow and arrow. 

“In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I, Eddard Stark of the House Stark, sentence you to die,” Ned spoke in a cold blank voice. 

Bran made sure to keep his reins in hand and his face blanks but as he looked at the bright black glowing star of the blade, a sense of desperation rippled off the sword. Bran could see even a sense of power and a dangerous aura rolled off the blade. The icy blue glow the stars on the blade to the glimmering steel.

Blood sprayer against the bright green grass of the hill, as Robb watched the head begin to roll turning, with each passing moment that his lifeblood spilled onto the ground. His body slammed into the ground with a loud thump that forced Bran to flinch away as if the sword was slamming against his neck.

Bran watched the way that his blade was soaked in blood and did not look the least bit affected by the rolling head. Whipping the blade back Bran watched on in horror as an arc of crimson fluid when rippling through the air and his head dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. 

Robb was more focused on Bran who was petting his pony as a grim look befell this face, “You did well.” Robb spoke with pride in his voice. 

It is only three words, but compliments are hard to come by in the Stark house. Bran was overwhelmed with joy; he is proud that Robb is proud of him, you could see it in the overwhelming joy that bubbled up in his stare. 

After a few moments and some talking, they were on their way doing their best to put this whole dead mess behind them. Bran rides with his brother and Theon, he is hard-working and his pony was trying to keep up with the bigger horses but was failing and before he knew it the trees began to blur and they disappeared in the vast thick brown trunks. 

Theon I

Theon and Robb gallop off down the trail, laughing and hooting, while as they raced through the forest; the rushing green leaves ran right past them in bright blurs of green as the deer brown soil stared back at them.

The dirt slammed upwards into the sky as Theon roared with throaty laughter as Robb let out his joyful hoots. The brisk air peppering their skin as the two of them went head to head not stopping as joy boomed in their hearts and blood rushed in their ears. 

Robb looked over the side of the trail stopping as he saw something curious, while he ran off after the strange sight. Theon's heart jumped into the throat he watched with utter terror thinking that maybe the young lord fell off the side. 

Theon knew that if he had fallen then he would be the one that gets in trouble after all he was the one that asked him to race. He knew that they did not trust him let alone like him all that much his mother being the least favorite out of the bunch. 

Catelyn stared coldly at Theon with bright blue eyes filled with cold venomous hate that ripped right through him. The thought alone forced his heart to crawl into his throat if she lost her first-born Theon knew that they would not see it as a tragic accident. But an act of murder committed by a jealous boy. 

Theon could not let that happen; his blood rushed loudly in his ears as he yanked back hard on the reins in the hopes of saving the young lord that might have fallen down the hill. Then dropped down to the soil; the soft squishy sound filled Theon’s ears as his boots dug deep into the dirt. 

When Theon got to the bottom of a small creek there Rob stood leaning over something that looked like a monstrous wolf. She had a gray almost black kind of color and she was bigger than a horse with a massive broke off stag horn. 

The stag lay beside the wolf dead and not moving as glassy black eyes were locked on Theon and Robb. Though Robb did not look the least bit instead of in the stag his eyes were locked on the young pups that were resting at the stomach of the dead wolf. 

Dropping down to one knee Robb noticed a wolf pup that eyes were shut as they yelped for their mother that was long since dead. He cradled the young pup. The soft fur felt like a soft cloud against his fingertips. 

Robb was so mystified by the sight of the magical little wolf pups that he did not even notice the growing neighs of horses began to fill his ears. Lord Ned was lording over them not sure what he was seeing there was doubt fluttering in his stare like this did not make sense to him. After all, there was a massive wolf larger than his horse. 

The shock and doubt that ate away at the mind of Ned forced him to still be in shock and dismay. His eyes roaming over the dried blood that crusted against her otherwise immaculate fur. Ned carefully forced his horse against the ridge who seemed terrified even though the dire wolf was dead; there was an imposing presence even if it was a corpse that filled the horses with fear. But Ned only felt a sense of fashion as he looked at the massive wolf and her pups.

One thought was running through his head as he looked at the massive wolves. 

_“This had to be a bad omen.” Ned thought_

“Get away from it!” Jory spoke in an outage tone as he started to pull his blade from its scabbard, filled to kill whatever light might remain in this beast and its pups. 

Robb was horrified at the thought that he might want to kill such precious animals that were never seen past the wall. Animals that were once the pride of his family and was even now to this day the sigil of his house. 

_What was wrong with him, the mother was dead, and the poor puppies did not do anything wrong. - Robb thought in a mystified and horrified voice_

“She can’t hurt you. She’s dead.” Robb spoke in outrage not letting himself be forced to think it but not have the heart to say it 

Jory's eyes widened but Robb knew that he would never speak out against him after all he was a stark and Jory a vassal lord and knight. Even if he were a lifelong friend to his father, he would never step out of turn like that. 

“What in the hell is it?” Jory spoke 

Bran gets close enough to see what they were all arguing about. 

Robb thought that it was obvious, he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he looked to the Northern knight, shocked that he did not know what it was.

“A wolf.” Robb resisted the urge to roll his eyes as if this were obvious.

Robb could understand Jory’s doubt after all the wolf was bigger than his horse. Its eyes were blind and crawling with maggots. Its tongue was puffy and pink and so fat that she did not look like she could close her mouth even if she were alive. By the putrid scent that made all the men take a step back. 

“It's a freak!” Theon spoke with wide doubtful eyes. 

“No, you fool. That’s a dire wolf.” Robb spoke as if it was obvious and he was not the only one. 

Ned stood still, his eyes wide with doubt as his body turned cold and rigid as for a moment it looked like the Stag and the Wolf were at each other's throats and it forced him to think back to his friend. 

Both had changed after the war after the death of Lyanna none of them were the same so could this be a bad omen. That Lyanna's death caused a divide that might never be a bridge. 

Carefully Ned made his way into the muck not paying attention to the cool sensation of mud splattering against his skin. The rippling winds ran through his brown curls that lay flat against his skin. 

His eyes scanned every inch of the wolf, groping under the beast’s head, it was only when Ned gave a yank and slammed his foot against the beast's chest. Did the shattered antler, slick with half-dried blood come from the beast with sickening thunks? 

“There hasn’t been a dire wolf south of the Wall for two hundred years.” The Kennel master spoke in a cold voice annoyed and outraged as he leered at Rob as if he had the right to call him a fool.

“Well... now there are six now,” Rob spoke in a warm voice. Joy filled his heart forcing him to bounce on the balls of his feet. 

Robb was kneeling in the muck much like his father, but his bright blue eyes were soft and locked on two things. 

Bran stood off to the side growing impatient as he peered over the shoulders of his brother and father, seeing the same thing that everyone was staring at, his eyes widened as he tried to move closer. A childlike wonder began to fill his eyes as his chest began to heave with the excited breath.

Bran’s eyes began to widen with doubt and shock as he looked down to the dire wolf pup, a tiny ball of gray-black fur, eyes still closed, nuzzling blindly against Rob’s chest, whimpering.

Theon yanked at a stray pup.

“Tough old beast, wasn’t she? Birthing a litter with an antler in her throat.” Jory seemed almost proud of the beast as he had a shocked look on his face. 

Even as Rob ran his fingers gently along with the perfect fur of the blind pup doubt bubble in his stomach like he could barely believe what he was seeing. Like this was just some kind of trick that his mind was playing on him and sooner or later it would come to an end and he would be left with nothing but a pocket of air. 

“Go on. You can touch him.” There was a gentleness to Rob's voice as he spoke. 

Bran gives the pup a quick, nervous stroke like he was afraid to hurt the little guy. The tentative strokes forced a warm smile to pull at Rob's lips. At this moment they did not just witness a man get killed they were finding a northern miracle south of the wall and loving every moment of it. 

Robb dropped down to one knee quickly scooping up a third wolf pup before turning to look at Bran as he thrust another pup into Bran’s arms. 

For a moment there was nothing but shock on his face but then a sensation of great joy overpowered him as he gave in to his more childish thoughts. Bran rubbed the wolf pup’s soft fur against his cheek. Running his fingers tenderly through his fur as he grinned gently at the young wolf pup. 

Overwhelming joy slammed against him as the soft feeling of soft fur laden with moisture from the snow prickled against his cheeks. Ned did not so much as give his son a second look instead he turned downwards to the wolf pups knowing that they would never survive without their mother. What child would? 

He picks up two more helpless pups, one in each hand his expression was not something that no one could read. Hullen the horse master frowned heavily like he knew something that terrifies him. 

“Dire wolves lose in the realm.” The thought seemed terrifying,

“Not for long,” Theon spoke in a low and manic voice.

Murderous blue eyes were locked on the pups that were in Bran’s arm. At that moment, a dangerous fire burned in the eyes of Robb; he was not going to let this happen; he would not let this happen. Resolve began to fill him outshining the rage that bubbled deep in his heart. 

“Put that sword away or lose your hands I plan on keeping these dire wolf pups” Rob sloped in a blank voice that boomed over the silent forest. 

The young Kraken lord blanched away; his eyes darkened as if to say you would dare talk to me like that. Rob knew that sooner or later he would be the lord of Winterfell which meant that whether Theon liked it or not he would have to take orders from Rob why not start now. 

“Better a quick death. They won’t last without their mother.” Ned spoke in a firm resolute voice as they all noticed the grim look in his eyes like he did not want to admit it but knew that it was true. 

Ned's mind instantly flashed back to Lyanna thinking about what might have happened if Robert had married her and bedded her before going off to war. What if they had a child and she died in the rebellion. What might have become of that child?

It was a useless thought but that did not mean that Ned could keep himself from thinking it. 

Robb on the other hand was not going to take no for an answer, but he knew better than to show his temper so instead, he spoke in a chilly calm voice. Cold air swirled around him like a cloak. 

“Father... There are six pups. Four males, two females. You have five trueborn children. Three sons, two daughters. While you are the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the whole north you should have one as well. After all, the dire wolf is the sigil of your House.” There was a sly twinkle in Rob's eyes as he spoke. 

Everyone turned to look at the Stark banners, with their dire wolf crest-of-arms resting fluttering in the crisp breeze. Anyone could see their opinions about the pup’s change, it was like Rob’s words had power over his people. 

Ned knew that he was right and how many lords could say that they had the very sigil of their house at their feet. Only the Targaryens whose sigil was a dragon could be amongst them. Why should not his children get the same chance with the dire wolves. 

“You will feed them yourselves. And train them yourselves, and if they die you will bury them yourselves” Ned spoke in a cold voice. 

Bran nods eagerly, as did Rob, neither one of them thinking that their wolves might ever die. 

“They may die anyway; despite all you do,” Ned spoke in a cold voice as he stared at the white dire wolf that rested in his hand. 

“They won’t. We won’t let them.” With a firm and resolute voice, Robb spoke. 

With the decision made; people started to remount their horses. Bran tugs gratefully on his elder brother's sleeve. A sweet smile on his with bright blue eyes staring lovingly into his brother's stare. 


	5. Stags and Lions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I make Tyrion a Targaryen like the theories suggest? Just let me know in the comments

Cersei I

The walled city of King’s Landing, the capital of Westeros baked in the dawn light, the sky lit up a bright twilight pink as a streak of gold and yellow danced across the sky. Twirling and dancing around each other like they were partners dancing in a duet.

The scent of shit flooded the air and force peasants and lord alike to flinch away the once great and mighty city wreaked of death and pig shit. Nothing but darkness and drinking enclosed the lesser part of the cities. But the same could not be said about the names that rested on the hill or the cattle that had once belonged to the Targaryens.

The royal castle, the Red Keep, built of red sandstone, perches on the cliffs above Blackwater Bay, the ocean breeze helped to shake away the filth and shit of the unwashed masses. The seven-towered Great Sept of Baelor rises on the south edge of the city.

In between sprawls the fetid slum called Flea Bottom a place where rivers of shit rushed down the streets and fouled up with ever sweet smells that would waft away from the port and whore houses.

At the top of the Red Keep, to a window near the top of the Tower of the Hand rested the very man that helped to win the rebellion that Robert started so long ago. Jon Arryn, a strong man in his 60s, was now cold and still, lying on his deathbed.

Two Silent Sisters with veiled adherents to the Faith of the Seven rested on their hands, Arryn’s arms folded across his chest as his eyes were closed for the last time

Grand Maester Pycelle, loyal to only the Lannister, stood over him with a disturbed look on his face as he fought the urge to collapse under the weight of Arryn’s final words. He wears a heavy chain around his neck, each link forged with a different metal. Many thought that he would collapse under the weight of that chain long before the words that spilled from the dead man's lips.

Beside him is Queen Cersei looked just as confused as shocked, she thought that he would tell them the truth about her children about what and who they really are. Instead, she was shocked into silence much like the others that were around her.

Cersei is a strikingly beautiful woman, with golden hair, emerald green eyes, fair skin, and a slender, graceful figure. While Cersei is willful, ambitious and has a certain cunning to her now she looked like an utter fool as she stared at the men that now she wished never died so that she could question further.

Everyone knew that she is hungry and greedy for power even if she thought that she was hiding it well she was wrong. Cersei believes herself to be subtle and politically astute but now that they both look down at Jon Arryn, she could not form a coherent thought.

“I gave him milk from the poppy at the end. To ease his path, his words they could have been from delirium” The old Maester spoke in a nervous voice.

Afraid that the queen would go into a fit of rage but to his surprise Cersei touches the old Maester’s arm in thanks, her face gentle and kind but a panic hid behind her emerald green eyes that were flickering in the morning light.

“We are blessed to have a man of your wisdom caring for us,” Cersei spoke in a sweet voice.

A sad and supple smile pulling at her face as she grinned at the older man that was not too old to appreciate a little flattery or the touch of a beautiful woman. But he was no fool; he could see the inner turmoil that she refused to show.

“He was peaceful, in his final hours?” Cersei questioned.

Though the older man knew that was not what she wanted to know, he could see the apprehension that was threatening to swallow her like an all-consuming wave. Arryn’s words, his raspy voice, down to the stink of his breath. It was fresh in both of their minds.

“Mostly he slept, my Grace. Though he had moments of clarity” Cautious with his words Pycelle spoke.

Doubt brimming in his eyes as panic threatened to swallow him whole Robert was going to be lost in a fit of rage for the loss of one of his oldest friends. Now he would have to hear the same news as the rest of them.

“Yes, I got one of those few moments of clarity, what do you think that he meant when he said that Rhaegar was alive. Robert killed him; thousands of men saw him fall on the battlefield.” Cersei spoke with trepidation worming its way into her heart.

As well as a venous rage, Lyanna’s body was never found, Rhaegar might be alive, Cersei knew that would mean that her son's claim would truly be endangered it was easy to kill a secret but it would be harder to kill a person that had a true claim to the throne her idiot stag husband took for himself.

Doubt and confusion wormed its way onto the panic mask of the elder men, his dark blue eyes were growing darker with each passing moment. His lips refused to work the way that he wanted, what could he tell them. Tell them that he had known for a while he was there creeping in the shadows as he watched the prince get swapped out for one of his loyal knights.

Surely, they would have his head for the lies that he crafted.

“He asked to see the King…” The elder man tried to speak but a sweet voice snapped off whatever he was going to say.

“Robert will never forgive himself for not being here. These hunts of his last longer and longer with each passing moment. Sooner or later we are going to have to tell him the truth that the very people that took away his precious Lyanna is still alive.” Towards the end of the sentence, her lips contorted into a sneer of rage.

A murderous rage threatened to swallow her whole as she leered at the elder man like somehow it was his fault that her husband was in love with another. It made her think that if Rhaegar was truly alive did that mean that the very women in the prophecy were younger and prettier than her, would that be Lyanna? Confusion and doubt gnawed at the frayed edges of her stomach.

“And he asked to see Lord Stark.” Hesitant and cool Pycelle spoke.

“A shame Lord Stark is a thousand leagues away. That was all?” Cersei spoke in an almost smug voice.

Even as she spoke Pycelle could sense the rage that was welling in her even if she never spoke the words she was glad that the older man was dead she knew what it would mean for her children.

Just when she thought that she was safe, he spewed lies about the Targaryens in the hope of throwing her off her game. There was no way that she was ever going to let that go. Pycelle knew that.

“No, but we did hear a word about the Targaryen children, the beggar prince, and Stormborn. They are in Pentos.” His voice was nothing but a whisper.

Pycelle acted as if speaking the Targaryens name was enough to invoke the rage of the forgotten dragon lords.

Pycelle shudder of his trepidation and dread that was whirling around in heart like an icy storm of winter, “The dying mind is a demented mind. For all the weight they are given, the last words usually have as much significance as first words.” Pycelle spoke in a sage and cavalier voice.

Cersei knew that was more for her comfort then his own, he knew the truth even if they did not, for a long while he had hoped that Rhaegar would see sense and stay in the east but he knew that he would never do that. He would take back what was his, with what happened to his wife and children, he would never forsake his need for vengeance.

Cersei cocked her brow upwards as she stared at the older man with a cautious and cool mask as if to tell him that she was not fooled by his words like he might have hoped.

“Where is the Hand’s wife?” Cersei's smooth tone shocked Pycelle.

He did not think that she was going to be so calm not with the impending rage that would befall them when Robert came home and heard not one ugly truth but two. So why even think about the hand’s wife when it was the king that they truly needed to be worried about and the hand. They had to get Lord Tywin that spot where Lannister would rule the throne.

“Lady Arryn left the moment he breathed his last breath he stole off into the night” Cersei turns and heads for the door.

She didn’t even so much as look back at the elder man her mind was racing and she had plotting to do; they had to know about the Hand about the Targaryens that could one day be on their way here. For all, they knew they were on a fleet of ships making their way here even as they spoke.

“Send a raven to Casterly Rock. My father should know Jon Arryn is dead and about Rhaegar.” Cersei spoke in a cool and beautiful voice.

The elder men's Adam apple bobbed as terror flashed in his eyes, the last time that the Targaryens' name fluttered around this castle it was before a rebellion that ended in their battle.

“At once, my Grace,” Pycelle spoke in a cold voice.

Cersei exits the bed-chamber. Pycelle watches the Sisters perform their ritual ablutions, imagining, perhaps, the not-too-distant day when they will minister to his own corpse. But not of natural death but because he would be dead either at the hands of the Baratheon’s or the Targaryens. War was coming and they all knew it.

Tyrion I

While the lions were planning a takeover and preparing for the dangerous encounter with the enraged stag king, the peasant of Flea Bottom and the littlest lion were up to their own no good. The most dangerous neighborhood in the kingdom.

Drunks spill out of doorways of taverns lit with oil lamps not once notice the uproar that was going on in the castle just a few 100 feet away, singing at the top of their horse lungs.

“She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair, but he licked the honey from her hair, her hair! Her hair!” They roared with joy.

Outside sounds of rough laughter and singing could be heard in the room which is expensively appointed in silks, damasks, and gilded ornaments, but its garishness betrays its true nature. That, and the naked redheaded whore on her knees beside the bed. She bestows oral favors upon Tyrion Lannister probably the only Lannister that was not in on their plans to take over while the hand was dead, and the king was away.

Though that made sense since he is a dwarf hated by his father and his sister the Queen, Tyrion had stubby legs, a jutting forehead, mismatched eyes of green and black, and a mixture of pale blond and black hair. Some say that he was a Targaryen, his mother raped by Areys, and he a twisted monstrosity showing off his twisted conception.

His unique stare has been said to make most people uncomfortable, which Tyrion tries to use to his advantage. Tyrion is an intelligent, well educated, and a ferocious reader, something that he had to become because of his form.

Some say that he is reminiscent of Rhaegar who preferred the art of reading to the Martial art of war, Tyrion is sharp of wit and tongue. Even though he is no warrior, he has been trained at arms, but his bravery has yet to be tested. Tyrion has stated that what he lacks in size and strength he makes up for in mental acuity.

Tyrion generally receives little respect and is often mocked, and his deformity is the cause of many problems and persecution, although mitigated to some extent by his high social standing and his family's wealth and power. But if it were to ever come out that Tyrion's father could prove that he was in fact not his son, who knows how much longer he would live or even receive that respect.

Though now Tyrion was not thinking about his complicated life the whore that was on his cock, Tyrion’s hands grip her hair as he shudders. Inches, mere moments from a climax his eyes shut tightly as euphoria rushed over him, threatening to drown him in the warm embarrassing waters of lust when the bells began to ring outside, thousands of them, great pealing bells from all across the city.

Instantly his eyes snapped open he knew that the bells ring only for three reasons, the Redhead, finished with her work, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her brows were cocked upwards as confusion fluttered across her face.

“Who are they ringing the bells for?” The Redheaded whore spoke with confusion oozing with each word she spoke.

“The King’s Hand died this morning,” Tyrion spoke in a smug voice.

Tyrion grabs a goblet of wine from the bedside table, the dark violet color swirled against the golden metal. He swigs the robust and sweet wine dribbled down his throat and chin before passing it to the whore. She raises it in a toast.

For a moment Tyrion thought that he saw grief hanging in the whore’s blue eyes; maybe she knew that Arryn was the only thing holding the realms together. That now the drunken fool they call king would be forced to rule for once.

“Here’s to Jon Arryn, then. He was the only one of you who cared about the smallfolk.” She drinks deeply, sloshing the wine around her mouth.

Tyrion almost looked insulted as he put on a mocked look of hurt fluttering across his face as he placed a hand on his wounded heart, a mischievous twinkle forming in his eyes.

“I care about the smallfolk.” Mocked pain oozed in each word Tyrion spoke.

The sly smile on the whore’s face told Tyrion that he did not believe even a single word that came out of his twisted little mouth. Her brows were cocked up and there was this devious twinkle that flooded her ocean blue eyes.

“Only the ones with good tits. Whose Robert picking for a new Hand?” She flipped her hair and wiggled her tits before starting to rise from her position on the floor.

Strutting over to the mirror and washing basin she paid him no mind as she fluffed her hair and ran a rag against her lips. There was this smug smile on her lips, she could feel the mismatched eyes were locked on her small pale ass that jiggled as a chilling wind rustled through the air.

“If he’s smart, my father,” Tyrion spoke rolling his eyes like it should be obvious.

“And if he’s not smart?” Her brow cocked with mock doubt.

They all knew that while the king might have been a mighty warrior, he was a shit ruler.

Tyrion on the other hand let out a bark of amused laughter as he grinned at the whore, his lips pulled into something gruesome that Tyrion might have thought was a smile.

“If the King is not smart? Milady, these are treasonous words...” He stalked over to her as he grinned at her.

Spinning sharply on her heels until she was starting to get back down on her knees which at that point Tyrion clamps his palms on the back of her head and guides her back toward his crotch. The Redhead laughs, disbelieving the brash actions of the little dwarf.

“No chance you’re ready again.” The utter disbelief in her voice forced them both to laugh.

He takes the goblet from her, downs the remainder of the sweet wine, savoring the taste as he did so the sweetness of arbor gold was what he needed after his long day. A sharp ping could be heard as the golden plated goblet was tossed assisted clattering against the ground across the other side of the room.

“The gods gave me one blessing.” Tyrion tone was no longer smug or mocking.

The whore didn’t see it but there was pain fluttering around in the heart of the dwarf afraid that one day his names and wit would not be enough to save him from the doubt and hatred of the people and if they knew that he might be a bastard of the mad king they all knew what would happen.

Tyrion was no fool and he heard the rumor but at this moment he did not want to think about what else the gods might have given him. The Redhead grins and pushes her hair away from her face as she dips down for further service.

What he did not know was that while he was doing this the king had returned and he was outraged.

Jamie I

Robert has the classical Baratheon look: black hair and bright blue eyes. His heavy black hair is thick on his chest, and coarse, he is a very tall man; six and a half feet. After he won the Iron Throne, Robert's appearance changed.

Due to excessive feasting and drinking, Robert gained a significant amount of weight. In the nine years after Greyjoy's Rebellion, he gained at least eight stone in weight. Now, he can often be found with a red face from drinking, with dark circles underneath his eyes. Robert's beard, a wild, thick, and fierce thing, hides his double chin.

Now he was pacing madly rage and hate bubbling in his stare as his lips were curled over sharp yellow teeth, there was a murderous aura cloaking him. The small council could not tell if it was the fact that his rage was for the death of his best friend and foster-father or if it was for the news of his final words.

“Sir the Queen and I both heard her, he said that the Targaryens were alive, in fact, his exact words were that Rhaegar was still alive.” Pycelle's voice shook

He did not let it show but there was an inner struggle going on in his mind.

Fearful that they would find out that he knew, and a sinking feeling that told him to run before they could find out.

Cersei on the other hand had a stoic look on her face as she studied her husband watching his shoulder stiffen and for a moment, she did not see the fat drunken fool that she was forced to marry.

Instead, he was the warrior drunk on blood lust and wanting to see heads roll. His wild black curls were whipping back and forth as his eyes raced with a sense of utter madness rushing over him.

The tension forced the whole room to still as Cersei took this moment to speak, her father needed to be handled and this was the perfect way to make sure that happened.

“With my father’s gold and armies, we will be able to hunt the Targaryens down and truly end their poisonous line once and for all.” Even as the golden hair queen spoke her eyes fluttered over to her twin.

Ser Jamie otherwise known as the kingslayer was sitting off to the side looking over his king, but his eyes were searching the older man's face trying to know if what he said was true or not.

Jaime grew into a tall, handsome man, in the past 14 years, he had curled hair the color of beaten gold. He has flashing cat-green eyes and a smile that cuts like a knife. Many think that he is what a king should look like, some think that he is what a knight should look like, but he is a traitor.

He is muscular and extremely strong, musing that he could only think of a few men in the Seven Kingdoms stronger than him and that his speed and skill can defeat them. He knew that one of the few knights that could match him and beat him might still be alive. That he might have been stewing in his hatred all this time still at his kingside.

As a King’s guard knight, Jaime wears white armor and a white cloak many thought that he soiled that cloak the moment that he killed his own king, he should have just taken him hostage and let the new king choose what happened to him. At least that is what people say when they think that he is not looking or listening.

His eyes shifted to Ser Barristan he bent the knee and he did not look the least bit shocked by this news in fact he acted as if he already knew who and what they were doing this whole time. The thought forces a shudder to rush down Jamie's spine.

This time he truly looked at Ser Barristan and something in his face changed; he looked the same but different all the same. There was this air of nobility about him that he knew was different from the first time around.

Barristan is tall and has pale blue eyes which some consider being sad. He is an older man, with white hair and lined features. When he was young, he had blond hair. Some consider him handsome, at least for his age. Despite his advanced age, Barristan looks strong and graceful and every bit the skilled knight he was in his youth.

Everyone knew that he was a true warrior and that he was also going to side with the Targaryens; they did not fool enough to believe that he would ever truly be sided with them. Not if he knew that this whole time the Targaryens were alive. It felt like all the eyes were locked on the older knight as if they were all thinking the same thing.

That he might turn on them.

Barristan is considered one of the most skilled and respected knights in the Seven Kingdoms, considered to be made of the true steel that marks a King’s guard knight. If he turned against the king, they were sure that a few of the lords and knights might leave with him. His skill is comparable to the acclaimed Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.

A dutiful and gallant man, Barristan dislikes tricks so Jamie found it hard to believe that the biggest trick of all, hiding the Targaryens for the better part of 14 years. Did he know where they were? Was he going to turn against them? Jamie's mind rushed with more questions than he had answered.

But now they all shifted their stare at the engraved king who did everything that he could not to lose his temper. Though you could tell that he was not trying too hard, as he let out furious bellows.

“Gather the family we are heading north, and Varys find out what you can.” He roared with commanding fury

Varys is a plump, bald, and effeminate eunuch. He has soft white hands. He powders his face and smells of lavender, lilacs, and rosewater. The moment that the Targaryens were mentioned he had a blank look on his face, but Jamie could see the devious twinkle in his eyes he knew something no matter what lies he spewed.

Varys wears rich silks, velvets, and damasks and soft slippers. His outward manner is obsequious, mysterious, and squeamish. He bowed his head dutifully as the king turned towards Jamie, “Collect your brother we are going North.” Robert spoke in a cold voice.

Stannis looked ready to disapprove but instead, he stood firm bright blue eyes locked on Jamie screaming I do not trust you.

It was all that needed to be said that they knew that their father would not be the lord hand, there was only one reason to go North. Ned Stark.

Jamie’s jaw started to click as he ground his teeth, he knew that his father would not be happy when he was passed over a third time for the hand of the king. Though his grandchildren would rest on the throne and I am sure that was the only thing that he cared about. Power was a power even if Joffrey was a fool.

Tyrion II

Tyrion closes his eyes, getting ready to enjoy his whore when the door swings open, the meeting has long since come to an end and just like he was ordered to, Jamie Lannister, the Queen’s twin brother, stands in the doorway.

He was considered by many the best-looking man in the Seven Kingdoms, there is a hint of savagery behind his green eyes. He smiles as the Redhead, flustered, covers her breasts. Jamie found it amusing a whore having the nerve to be bashful when she fucks men and women for a living.

“Don’t get up.” Jamie gave her a mocking grin as he spoke.

“Forgive me, my lord...” The red-headed whore fussed over her hair as she struggled to collect herself.

Tyrion had seen this before and did not like it any more than the first time the whores, the ladies even the peasant they all loved his brother. Any other time he might have been outraged but this time it was almost amusing to Tyrion to see the whore try to get prepared in the presence of a real lord one that was not a Dwarf.

“Should I explain to you, dear brother, the meaning of a closed door in a whorehouse?” Tyrion spoke in a mocking voice.

Jaime continues to favor the redhead with his lazy grin, fucking her with his eyes as he speaks with his brother.

“You have much to teach me, no doubt, but in this instance perhaps you’ll forgive the interruption. You told me once that you wanted to see the North. I didn’t want you to miss your chance.” Jamie's chilling tone shocked his younger brother.

Doubt flutters across the smaller Lannisters face as his mind races, could this have something to do with the dead hand? The sharp-witted mind of the Lannister began to rush as he studied his brother's stoic form.

He could tell that there was something wrong as he shifted his eyes to the Whore. He knew that his brother had something that he wanted to tell him, but he knew that he would never find out for as long as this whore was in the room.

“Who’s going North?” Tyrion's mocked confusion forces his brother to roll his eyes.

“We are. The royal “we.” The King. The Queen. Me. You can find your pants.” Jamie taunted his brother as he grinned at him.

“Why?” Tyrion question, he knew that there was something wrong.

The air grew tense, apprehension filled the air as Jamie looked over to the whore then let his eyes flutter past his younger brothers wait before speaking in a smug voice as a sly smile tugged at his lips.

“Well, I’m used to it, but the rest of the court might be frightened by the sight of your wet little dagger,” Jamie spoke.

Watching the annoyance flutter over his brother's face he grinned at him as he shifted his stare to the whore speaking in a smooth voice.

“Dear give us a minute.” Jamie's voice was final and cold.

All the amusement in his face and voice faded away watching the whore all but godly stumble out of the room as she tossed cautious and scared gazes over her shoulder. As if she knew that Lord Tywin does to whores that are too close to his sons.

“Why are we going north?” Tyrion questioned.

“The King has chosen his Hand. And no one’s going to be happy about it. Let alone father but that is not the most distressing thing. The Targaryens are alive, Rhaegar is alive.” Jamie spoke his voice slightly trembling with fear and worry.

Tyrion did not know what to say but one question was ringing clearly in his mind.

Were the Targaryens alive?


	6. House of The Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so no Tyrion Targaryen angel I have taken a pole, there will be quite a few twists and turns before they go west and the West is going to have their own troubles leading up the Targaryen forces.

Jon I

The thunderous sound of mighty wings beating against the sky filled my ears as my heart thunder just as loudly in Jon’s ears. Warmth spread through him like a never-ending inferno as dazzling silver, purple and red flames danced at his feet.

Licking against his skin but no pain rose. His skin did not blacken and char, puss did not spill out of exploding boils. His skin started back at him just as tan as it usually is but soon the thunderclaps sounded closer.

The manic neighs of horse filled the air, shrill and filled with terror, panic edged in each neigh, as the scent of sulfur and the burning scent of human flesh filled the air. Agonizing blood-curdling screams could be heard across the vast valley.

Golden and red mix together as cities collapse all around the young Targaryen prince, his silver hair whipping at his face as he feels the warmth of a woman at his back. At first, he thought that it was one of his sisters coming to pester him once more. But instead of seeing two strong-willed girls, he saw a sweet girl with a fire in her eyes

A young woman in her early teens, maybe a year older than Aegon’s sisters and a year younger than Aegon. Though she has the classical Valyrian look so at the very least he knew that she had to be a Valyrian, maybe a Blackfyre. She has violet eyes, pale skin, and long, pale molten hair that shined in the light. The minute that their eyes locked he knew who she was.

His missing aunt, the one that was driving his father mad with worry and fear, said that something had happened to not only her but his younger brother as well. The white Bull had been sent away a few weeks ago after a rumor was heard about the beggar prince and his sister were in Pentos.

She opened her mouth to speak but wolves were howling unsteadily all around him, the next time that she tried to speak three mighty roars were filling the air, the first dangerous and billowing shaking the ground roughly.

The second was just mighty but raspy and filled with rage as the wind grew wilder. The third was more reserved than the other two but the edge was brutal and cold like a winter storm unexpected but just as dangerous as a blade.

Three dragons larger than castles toward Aegon loomed over Aegon. The one to the right has gleaming murderous red eyes slit and almost glowing. His crimson scales the shape of diamonds and his wings the same dazzling blood red.

To the left of the dragon stood of equal size with a deep silver body with so much depth that Aegon could drown in them. Something about the dragon made Aegon think that the silver dragon before him was a she-dragon.

Her eyes had more depth than the eyes of almost human men he knew. Her wings are a deep sliver, and her body is the same color. While her tail is longer than the other and the spikes at the edge of her tail were razor-sharp and gleaming far more pronounced than the other two.

The thin skin of her wings shimmer in the burning eastern sun as ferocious winds whipped at her back

Then there was the final dragon; her bright green eyes studied him with cruelty and edge unknown to the two other dragons. She was not as large as her sister or brother, but her body was lean and heavily armored with the color of purple venom.

Her underbelly and her wings alike were coated with thick scales that didn't seem to weigh her down but only seemed to further protect her. Her purple scales shimmered with radiance and light, unlike anything that Aegon has seen though there is a danger to her beauty that Aegon can't quite place.

“Find us” Thick and raspy their three-voice echo in my mind but they spilled from the lips of the silver-haired girl.

Aegon snapped his head back looking at the silver hair girl's confusion filling in his mind as a haze of terror and fear washed over her once calm features.

“Find us, the Targaryen queen awaits you.” Whispers filled Aegon’s mind

As she spoke the winds began to whip up and three tornadoes and in each one was replaced by a dragon. One the color of the night sky with crimson highlights, the other being a jade dragon with bronze highlights, and the final a dragon that was cream with golden highlights.

“Jon get up!!” An angry roar filled the air.

Aegon was roused from a deep sleep as he looked up to see the cause of the sound. Ser Arthur Dayne. His dark violet eyes were locked on the young prince, he hated being called Jon he was given a long and noble name and he took pride in it. But for the past 14 years, he was forced to live a lie.

His shimmering blond hair gleamed in the light as he gave his prince a gentle smile, the love in his stare echoed all the love that he never showed. Not when they were training at any rate, but now as Arthur looked to the young prince struggling to shake off a haze from his deep sleep. Arthur could tell that there is something wrong but instead of asking him about it, he spoke in perfect high Valyrian.

“Come on Jon I let you sleep an hour later than usual.” He spoke in a clear voice.

Aegon's white-hot annoyance surfaced again as a warmth billowed in his side, when he threw his blanket back a dazzling crimson egg was resting against his side. He never let the egg out of his sight; he swore that one day it would hatch out of a great tragedy.

“That is not my name, how much longer must we hide on this island, father said that the white bull made it to Pentos, how much longer till we get back here. The last time that we spent a night away to find them all we got back was their hands and tongue.” Aegon's voice was a boring line filled with anxiety.

Aegon was like his mother in every way, fun-loving, headstrong, wild, and loved to ride horses he hoped that one day he would ride a dragon. He smelled like a stable the scent of hay and filth filled Arthur's nose.

Aegon took a ride through the island last night and must not have even bothered to bathe, he was the least prince-like prince that Arthur knew. The only thing that Aegon got from his father other than his looks was his skill with a harp and his singing which he barely uses. He fights like a true northern man. All skills no showing off.

Even now he was headstrong in knowing what was going on in the free cities, his eyes were locked on Arthur, a storm was brewing behind the bright indigo eyes of the young prince who had one finger tracing his egg while the other yanked at his clothes getting ready to get changed and ready for their sparring session.

“They were lowly knights and household guards; they didn’t have half the skill that the white bull has; he will be fine. Now come along I will not wait long.” Arthur spoke in a final tone.

Aegon watched him walk out of the room that had once forced his blood to boil was all but gone, he was not too good at hiding his emotion and he knew that. He was not one to hide behind plots and plans; he was honest and strong-willed. But he knew when to admit when he was wrong, he knew that this lie that the die and the fake name was all that kept him from having his head cut off and his sister raped.

He knew what happened to his elder brother Aegon and his elder sister Rhaenys both were dead because of the wrath of a mad man. There was a whole other family that he did not know, a language and a culture that he knew well but rarely used or spoke.

There were no heart trees in the East. Here they followed the 14 flames; they worship the gods of his old family from Valyria; he took pride in both his dragon blood and his dire wolf blood.

Now he was forced to hide that pride and he hated every minute of it, but he got out of bed and did as he was bid. Making his way out of his room he could hear the high pitch yelling of a princess then he knew to be his sister Meleys the younger twin sweet, kind, and gentle, her high Valyrian fell from her lips.

“Why do you have to be such a brat Enyo! You know I liked him.” Meleys whined gently.

Aegon shook his head heavily knowing that his sisters were arguing over the blacksmith that they often saw when they went into town when they were not supposed so. The children had been living a life of excel for 12 years. They knew better than to leave the forest but if there was one thing that all three children had in common it was their refusal to do what they were told.

When Aegon went into town he often took his sisters with him, and as he walked through the halls the beaming heat of the eastern sun peppered his browning skin. The scent of the dark black paste against his hair forced him to frown as the thick and husky voice of Enyo filled the air.

“I didn’t go after him; he came after me and I shut him down. We are royalty, I am a warrior, and I will not give him the time of day.” Enyo spoke in an off-handed manner.

When Aegon walked through the solar that led to the training yard Aegon noticed Enyo, she had smoke gray eyes that were lit up with fury, as her smooth silver curls were painted black like her elder brother. Her curls hung around her waist as her long nimble fingers twirl a short sword known as Darksister.

Rhaegar gave it to his eldest daughter just 4 short years ago, while Aegon got Blackfyre, his sister had an ample chest and slim legs clad in black leather pants and a tight vest that pushed her breast up.

Enyo leaned against the wall as cool as can be, she much like Aegon knew about their family and took pride in it. But unlike Aegon, she had a Targaryen temper and a lack of control over her temper.

The coldness that settled into her eyes as her high cheekbones gave her a true look of a princess. Her acauline nose stared back at Aegon as he turned to look at his youngest sister, Meleys.

Meleys had black curls naturally which was pulled back in a tight black braid as two curly bangs rippled down her flat chest. While she had no breast, she had a womanly figure, her bright indigo eyes were locked on her twin outrage. Her fist was balled up, but she was a bit of a cry baby. She was no warrior not like her siblings.

Aegon did his best to avoid them; he knew that he would be dragged into the fight so out to the courtyard he went. He could see his parents off to the side talking under their breath not paying their angry children the least bit of attention. Whatever they were talking about must have been important from them to ignore the fact that Aegon and his sister blatantly went into town.

Aegon did not have time to think about it as he went to work avoiding the dangerous blows of Arthur. Blackfyre sat in Aegon’s right hand and the worn leather grip felt good against his skin. A crimson hue lit up in the light.

Aegon made the first move slashing upwards with his right but as he sidestepped with ease, Arthur chuckled as his eyes were cunning and amused as he watched Aegon struggling to stay on his feet.

The sweet singing of steel cutting through the air-filled their ears as sweaty warm tendrils ran down our backs. Adrenaline forced Aegon's heart to pump faster as finally, he sliced in a horizontal slash forcing a light scratch gash to form on Arthur's armor. But that only seemed to annoy Arthur as he gripped tightly to dawn with two hands and force him to dash forward.

Sweat peppered his skin as the dry burning sand of the courtyard slapped against Aegon’s skin as his body ached with each blunt hit from the great sword. 

The sandy white sands shifted in the wind. Aegon's body was caked in dirt and sweat as he looked over to his father, his indigo eyes locked on the deep brown parchment as he spoke in a careful voice.

“We have found Daenerys; she is being forced to marry a Dothraki horse lord in the hopes of Viserys getting an army to take back the Iron throne. We are leaving at once Aegon is ready we leave in the morning.” Rhaegar's voice was excited and nervous.

Finally, he would see his sister and brother once more, Aegon knew that it haunted his father that he never saw his family. He was guilt-ridden because of his actions a lot of his family and friends died for his choices. If he could protect his sibling, Aegon knew that his father would stop at nothing to get them back.

Lyanna’s smoke-gray eyes ran over her son, she wanted nothing more than to keep her son away from the throne, but she knew that Robert’s rage had no end. He would keep hunting them down until they are all dead.

She knew that this could not be avoided but looking at her son she was fearful that he might not make it out of this. That her daughter would become a sex slave the terror was fresh in her heart, but she would not show it.

“Rhaegar we must talk about this! It could be a trap; this could be one of Robert's schemes.” Lyanna’s voice was steady but Aegon could hear the desperation in his mother voice

Even without thinking about it, Aegon's hands went to his right arm, his sword hand, there was a vertical scar going from his wrist to his shoulder. An attempt made by a man mad with hunger, hoping to get rich by sending Aegon’s head to Robert.

That was 4 years ago but it felt like yesterday to the young dragon prince, his father felt the same way about it and Aegon knew that was why he was desperate to get to his sibling before anything happens to them the same way that it had to his siblings.

Enyo the elder twin walked out watching as her father's back stiffened and rage began to bubble behind that indigo state that gave away his Targaryen blood as well as his unearthly beauty. She knew better than anyone what it was like to be at the mercy of men and she would not let that happen to her own family.

Her elder brother was not the only one that was hunted by the hungry and demented, after swimming in a lake, careless of any that might be around her. The black paste slipped from her silver locks and even if she did not have the indigo or violet or even lilac eyes, they knew who she was.

They joked and japed that they would rape her before they gave her away to the king though because of her age they thought her Daenerys Targaryen. Rhaegar showed up just as they were ripping the clothes from her body. Laughing as they jabbed pointed knives at her forcing her to flinch away as one hand swatted at them and the other held her bits and pieces.

Lost in rage Rhaegar slaughtered them all by the time that he came back to his senses he was soaked in their crimson life's blood and only their organs and broken skulls were left. That was nearly 6 years ago but even at her young age, Enyo was a great beauty. Since then she has been training to be a warrior.

The sweet and kind Meleys came to see the argument but she did not suffer like her siblings, she knew better after watching them suffer, the scars on her brother's body and the scars on her sister's mind made sure that she would never disobey them. But now she had a terrified look on her face fearing that she would be the next one to suffer at the hands of men's mortality.

“Father?” Meleys sweet voice seemed panicked.

She could sense the tension and the fear in her eyes forced Aegon to roll his eyes. He loved his sister but there was a part of him that was angry that while his sister and he were made to suffer.

It was Meleys who avoided that, even though their mother and father were forced to suffer at the hands of Baratheon men and sellswords alike. But not her and Aegon knew that was why Meleys hadn’t been close to her twin since that horrible moment six years ago.

Rhaegar turned around a slight frown on his face as outrage boomed in the back of his stare; he had to swallow his hate down as he spoke in the evenest voice that he could muster.

“I should leave Daenerys to be raped and forced to serve a horse lord savage, that I should let my brother have an army and let himself get killed. Viserys is 19, he might be a grown man, but he spent his whole life running. He does not know the first thing about taking a stand. He is selling our sister away because he thinks that he has no choice. I will show him that there is another choice. We have allies in Volantis.” Rhaegar's voice was sure and strong.

Aegon loved his father and he respected him greatly, but he knew better than to believe that the former lord of Griffin roost was alive. They have not heard from him since they moved here to the east after the fall of the mad king.

The red hair griffin set them up in this manse and has not talked to them since, Aegon could not help thinking that either he was dead or something was going on that did not sit right with him. There was doubt whirling around in his mind like a never-ending storm, forcing his heart to thump as his mind raced and went blank all at the same time.

Blood rushed in his ears as Aegon thought back to Daenerys and to the three dragons that appeared at her back. The first three were dead ringers for his siblings' eggs but the other three. Could she have eggs as well?

Confusion flooded his heart as more questions began to form in the back of the mind, there was one thing that Aegon wanted and that was to get back at those that wronged his family. An easy and dangerous smile pulled at Aegon's face as he spoke in a cold voice.

“I'm all for going to save Daenerys's father but it has to make you wonder….” Aegon let his voice draw on.

Sinister thoughts were filling his mind, his father is the rightful king, and he would be king after him. He knew that and had no problems with having to wait or fight for his throne but could the same be said about his uncle Viserys.

Rhaegar must have been thinking the same thing because a bitter frown formed on his face as darkness fluttered across his face as a foreshadowing doubt filled his stare. Aegon knew that his father would not say it out loud, but they were all thinking.

Meleys looked around the stilling courtyard confusion filling her wide big eyes as she shifted her stare from her parents to her older brother. This dumbstruck look formed on her face, as she moved her lips to speak but no words came out. Her jaw began to shake like she was trying to form thoughts.

“Egg is saying that Viserys might not want to give up the throne to father, to big brother,” Enyo spoke in an annoyed voice.

Aegon could not help but find it amusing that they were like night and day and it had nothing to do with almost getting raped. Rhaegar on the other hand looked over to his son and gave him a gentle smile.

“You're nearly a grown man, you are to be king, not me, you will bridge the gap between the North and the South, you will be king,” Rhaegar spoke in a sure commanding voice.

A tense silence flooded the air as Aegon nodded his head firmly not sure what to say, he knew that he would be king, but he did not think that it would be any time soon. A confusion fluttered over the air as Rhaegar turned to Lyanna, a grim look forming in her smoke eyes of the woman's face.

Lyanna knew that they would not stay in this manse forever that one day they would have to face the world, to face the rage of Robert Baratheon and her long-lost family. Lyanna took in a deep breath letting her nerves and fears fade to black, she was a wolf in human form she would not be at the mercy of a stag any longer, she wouldn’t let her children live in fear any longer.

“If Viserys does not step down then he will deal with the conquest, we will take back what is out with fire and blood. Winter is coming for the seven kingdoms.” Lyanna spoke in a firm resolute voice.

To Pentos they go.

Daenerys I

Daenerys stands by the window, staring out at the bay of Pentos, where shirtless fishermen haul nets full of wriggling fish from their boats onto the docks. The setting sun silhouettes the brick towers of the Free City; intricate and colorful geometric patterns decorate their bulbous domes.

Daenerys is a beautiful girl, but nobody has bothered to tell her. She is awkward in her skin, unaware of how rare her violet eyes and lush silver hair are. A young woman in her early teens, Daenerys has the classical Valyrian look.

She has violet eyes, pale skin, and long, pale silver-gold hair. Daenerys is slender and has small breasts. She is said to resemble Queen Naerys Targaryen, though Daenerys is taller. Daenerys has been described as fair, and beautiful.

Daenerys grew up terrified of and abused by her brother Viserys, he grew twisted and monstrous in the weight of being told repeatedly how he would be king. Dany knew that her brother was not born a monster that he grew up to be that way but it didn’t change the fact that at times he was just as big of a monster as his father had once been.

“Where’s my sweet sister?” Viserys bellowing voice fills the air.

While the words that he used sounded kind and loving, Daenerys knew better than that, her heart leaped into her throat as her body stiffen and turned as cold and hard as a rock. The terror that was boiling her blood forcing her skin to heat up forced her whole body to stiffen. The thought that she would have to deal with that monster was more than a little terrifying to her.

She knew that no matter what he wants it would not be good and it would end with her doubled over in pain fighting the urge to cry and jump out of her skin. Wishing for that red door with a lemon tree.

Viserys steps into the room, a gaunt young man with nervous hands and a feverish look in his pale eyes. He holds a lilac gown in his hands, the same color that matched his pale eyes. It had once been said that the darker the eyes the more powerful their dragon blood is. If that were true, then that would mean if dragons were still alive the chance of Viserys mounting one would be slim to none.

“A gift from Illyrio. Touch it. Go on. Feel the fabric.” Viserys spoke as he thrust the dress towards his sister.

Daenerys looked like she was trying to flinch away from the gown as she steeled her nerves and walked over to her brother, letting her soft and nimble fingers dance along the delicate silk run through her fingers. It is a gorgeous gown but the sight of it gives her no pleasure. She knew that this dress was a start to an end when it came to her freedom and what little joy was left in her life.

Daenerys did not trust this, there was something strange about all of this and Daenerys knew that this fat elder man was not doing this for their good he wanted something. Even if her foolish brother did not see it, she did.

“Tonight, you must look like a princess,” Viserys spoke in a smooth voice.

Daenerys hands the gown back to her brother, terror flashing across her heart as her fingers threaten to tremble, but she knew that she had to keep that cool mask on her face. She knew that seeing her in fear and panic would force him to give her a reason to be fearful.

“He gives us so much... we’ve been his guests for a year and he’s never asked for anything.” Her voice trembled with terror

Though the moment that she spoke she knew that she was better off not saying a word, the way that his brows slowly began to rise and the hate flooded his stare told her that she was better off to begin quietly. Her jaw clamped shut the moment that she said the words.

“Illyrio’s no fool. He knows I won't forget my friends when I come into my throne.” Viserys ran a gentle hand along with the dress.

Though his future began to pinch and there was a darkness that fluttered across his face as he walked softly back to the door. Every part of his body was tense as if he knew that his sister could see it too. There was a part of him that did not trust Illyrio's intention, but he was sure that he was the last dragon.

Viserys hangs the gown from a hook beside the door, a commanding voice echoed in the air as he turns back to look at his sister. Trying to hide all the hate that he held for his sister, the very reason that he was forced to grow up without a mother. There was a part of him that would always be bitter that his mother died bringing such a meek and weak child into the world.

‘I’ll send the slaves in to bathe you. Be sure you wash off that stable stink.” Darkness fluttered off his eyes and Viserys spoke down to his sister.

He studies her critically and something in his eyes told Dany that he saw something that he did not like, and that meant that she was truly in for it. Her whole body tensed as trepidation flooded her blood forcing her shoulder to slump in terror. As if making herself smaller would make her harder to find and abuse.

“You still slouch,” Viserys spoke in a disappointed tone, his lilac eyes glinting with an ominous light.

Viserys forcibly pushed back her shoulders, tilting her chin out as he did so.

“Let them see you have a woman’s body now.” Viserys smokes in a dangerous voice.

His teeth grazed his lips hungrily as his tongue ran slowly around his bottom lips, his fingers brushed lightly over her breasts, judging their shape beneath the rough fabric of her tunic. Goosebumps rose on Daenerys skin, not because she was afraid or because she was cold. The goosebumps formed from the disgust at the very touch of her brother's soft fingers not a single callous could be found.

“Don’t fail me tonight. You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?” His ominous threat was followed by action.

Viserys fingers tighten over one of her bright pink nipples, pinching and twisting until they start to turn a purple like color. Viserys was hurting her and reveling in it, but Daenerys does not dare resist or open her mouth. Knowing that any challenge would just end up hurting even more than if she stayed silent.

“Do you?” Viserys' one question forced her to still.

“No.” Dany spoke in a quiet voice.

Her heart thundered in her chest threatening to leap out through the flesh and bones of the thin girl, she was shaking like a leaf afraid that the next time that she spoke out against her brother might be one of her last. She knew that she would die without him, that she would be raped, and forced to do things that she would not want to do.

She knew that they called her brother the beggar prince; she kept her maidenhood and her nobility while her brother mucked around in the dirt. There is going to be at least one part of her that would always be thankful for what he did. But now he was just a terror in her life that needed to be excised.

“Good,” Viserys spoke with smug and arrogance.

He smiles, releasing her, brushing back her hair with something akin to affection, though soon his body began to fill with arrogance, and any humility that he might have had was all but gone as if he was not a beggar in the streets and truly the prince of kingdoms that he hadn’t seen in 14 years.

“When they write the history of my reign, they will say it began tonight,” Viserys spoke before walking out of the room.

Dany did not so much as pay her brother any attention and walked into the bathtub, the water was scolding and might have burned off the skin of anyone else. But the princess did not so much as look at the others she kept descending into the tub wishing more than anything else that someone would come and save her.

_Later that night_

A dozen strong men carrying a palanquin through the pitch-black streets of Pentos. Two servants walk in front, holding oil lanterns to light the way. Inside the curtained litter, Daenerys, Viserys, and Illyrio recline on soft pillows.

Daenerys wears the lilac gown, her molten silver hair shimmer in loose ringlets as her makeup has been artfully applied but somehow, she looks even younger than before. She seems nervous; she could hear the roar of her blood in her ears. Her hands were shaking as her nimble finger hid in the smooth folds of her dress.

Illyrio is tremendously fat, but he carries himself with a certain elegance. Years after he rose to power and wealth, Illyrio has grown morbidly obese. He has pig's eyes and fat cheeks. He has a huge white belly and a pair of heavy breasts that sag like sacks of suet covered with coarse yellow hair.

Daenerys notices that his breast is larger than her budding breast, and when he laughs his flesh bounces vigorously. He has an oiled forked yellow beard, which he tends to stroke in a manner considered remarkably obscene.

Although he uses heavy perfumes, Illyrio's flesh can still be smelled by bystanders, like rotting ass and death, his crooked yellow teeth shined in the silver light. Despite his bulk, he can walk lightly, a remnant of having been a bravo as a youth.

He smiles at Daenerys, takes the girl’s hand, and gives her a comforting squeeze, though she was no fool she knew that was more for him then it was for her. He needed this to work or the Dothraki hordes would be on them and before she knew it, she would be a slave one way or another. This saved Pentos from an angry Khal and gave Illyrio a favor with her brother.

If not for her debilitating fear she might have laughed and rolled her eyes.

Illyrio and Viserys did not seem to notice the trepidation that was swirling around in her heart of the terror that flashed fresh and wet in her eyes. Instead, they spoke as if they were the only ones there.

“She is a vision, your Grace. Drogo will be impressed.” Illyrio spoke with pride.

As if this young princess were his daughter and would be the blushing bride to the pentoshi prince. Viserys on the other hand had a serious frown on his face as his brows began to knit together in doubt and an annoyance flash in his lilac eyes like this was all so ordinary to him.

“She’s too skinny. Are you sure he likes his women this young?” Viserys spoke in a cold voice.

The moment he spoke Illyrio thought that the prince he had worked so hard to keep isolated from the rest of his family would somehow be all for not.

“She’s had her blood, she’s old enough. Look at her! Highest of the highborn, daughter of the last king, sister to the future king... he’ll want her.” Illyrio spoke with conviction.

There was a twinge of hatred flooding his heart as he thought that for a moment Viserys would not bend to his will. But he could see it in the gentle and weak will eyes of lilac color, he knew that he was as mad at his father but he would be good for Illyrio and that is all that matters to him.

“I suppose. The savages have queer tastes. Boys, horses, sheep...” Viserys would have continued to speak if Illyrio didn’t say anything.

“Best not suggest this to Khal Drogo” Illyrio wanted

The moment that he said it he knew that he had messed up, a dangerous fire lit up Viserys eyes, and a dark shadow fluttered across his face. His shoulder tensed and his finger traced a borrowed sword that he had no business wielding.

“Do you take me for a fool?” Viserys' voice boomed with outrage.

Magister Illyrio gave a slight bow, apologetically as he bent his head in shame and fear while Viserys was not skilled in any way when it came to the Martial arts. He was savage and was interested in ways of how to kill and torture men.

His lunacy was well known among Pentos.

“I take you for a king. Kings lack the caution of common men. My apologies if I have given offense” As Illyrio spoke he looked down at his goblet.

The sour dark wine of Dorne was no longer in the cup instead there was only a stain golden metallic cup left staring at him. The moment he saw it, a frown formed on the large fat man's face as he focused more on his wine then he did the conversation with the crazed prince.

He claps his hands and a slave boy wearing a brass collar, crouched in the corner of the litter, hurries over to refill Illyrio’s wine glass. It seemed like the only thing that he cared about but Viserys was not done with this conversion Though Illyrio could tell that his sly words did sway the prince.

“I know how to play a man like Drogo. I give him status and he gives me an army.” The smugness in his voice forces Illyrio to stifle a laugh.

Viserys’ fingers the toy with the hilt of his sheathed sword as he continues on his rant.

“I could sweep the Seven Kingdoms with ten thousand Dothraki screamers behind me. The people will be with us. They cry out for their true king.” Viserys’ stops giving Illyrio a nervous pause.

“They do, don’t they?” Viserys' voice turned cautious and filled with an underlying tone of terror.

Illyrio knew that he was going to have to lie. After all, they were putting two Targaryens and a Blackfyre against each other to see who would come out on top as the better king and or Queen. Though now he could not tell him that instead, he spoke in the most sly voice that he could manage.

“All across the Kingdoms, men lift secret toasts to your health. Their women sew dragon banners in hope of your return from across the water. Or so my agents tell me.” Illyrio spoke in a cool voice.

Daenerys, who has watched Illyrio throughout his speech, turns away. She keeps her own counsel, but it is clear the words that so inspire Viserys do not impress her. She knew that these were lies her brother told her that her father was a good man but she knew the truth. She knew that in the ending years of his life he was a monster terrorizing the realm.

She would have to hope that her brother could and would see through this deception.

_At the Dothraki Camp_

A great field outside the city walls of Pentos, ringed by hundreds of the distinctive, round Dothraki tents. The moon bathed Daenerys skin in silver light giving her a godly glow as she walked among the save men. Burning torches light the milling guests. Many are Dothraki horse lords, big men, their black hair oiled and braided and hung with silver bells. No women are present.

A smooth-cheeked eunuch announces the newcomers:

“Viserys of the House Targaryen, the Third of his Name. King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. His sister Daenerys Stormborn, Princess of Dragonstone. His honorable host, Illyrio Mopatis, Magister of the Free City of Pentos.” His voice was soft, not deep like a man's voice should be at his age.

The three honored guests step into the clearing. Illyrio guides them, pointing out various luminaries, all the while his mouth starts to grow dry with anticipation. Knowing that with each plot and plan, Illyrio gets more and more money. Illyrio turned his attention to four men that were standing around. Among them was Drogo.

Drogo has copper-colored skin, black hair, and black eyes. He is tall and muscular and moves gracefully. He has a long, drooping mustache and a long braid hung with tiny bells that hang down to his thighs, symbolizing his status among the Dothraki as an undefeated warlord. Dany was taken with the sight of him, but as crippling terror flooded her chest.

Then there were his three blood riders that seemed to terrify the young princess.

“That was Drogo, and those three men are Drogo’s blood riders” Illyrio spoke in a cool voice.

The blood riders, fearsome Dothraki warriors, stare back at Daenerys. She quickly averts her eyes, that debilitating terror flooded her mind, mouth, and heart.

“Over there is Ser Jorah Mormont,” Illyrio spoke in a cool voice.

Both the dragon prince and princess turned to look at the knight. Jorah is a large middle-aged man, swarthy and hairy. He is black-bearded and balding, but still strong and fit. Jorah wears wool and leather, with his dark green tunic displaying the standing black bear of House Mormont. Both the Targaryens looked on in doubt.

“A knight? What’s he doing here?” Viserys questioned.

The moment that Ser Jorah sees the Targaryens staring at him he bows deeply. Viserys gives a slight nod, pleased by the obeisance.

“King Robert-the Usurper wanted his head. Some trifling affront. Sold poachers to a slaver.” Illyrio shrugged his shoulder casually as he spoke.

As if sending men into a life of ruthless servitude and whipping chains, something sparked in Viserys eyes when he revealed that this man was from the very kingdoms, he had hoped to take over one day.

“He could be useful.” He could be useful.

Illyrio places his hand on Daenerys’ bare shoulder, a sweet and kind smile pulled at his face, but Daenerys was no fool. She knew that he was working his way into their family but what could she do? Viserys was her only family and he was willing to sell her to savages if it meant that he got to power.

“Over there, sweet princess. There is the Khal himself.” Illyrio spoke but Dany spotted him the moment that she had walked into the room.

He had a way about him that not only commanded respect but demanded it. He has the grace of a panther. His black hair is woven into a single braid, hung with silver bells, that swings below his belt.

Illyrio walks over to Khal a dozen yards away leaving the prince with his sister. Knowing that cruel venomous words would spill from his lips sooner or later. Viserys leans closer to his sister, never taking his eyes off Drogo.

“You see how long his hair is? When Dothraki is defeated in combat, they cut off their braids in disgrace, so the world will know their shame. Khal Drogo has never been defeated. A savage, of course, but one of the finest killers alive. And you will be his queen.” His voice was proud and low.

He was all but salivating over the army that the world's best killer would provide.

Daenerys stares at Khal with a mix of horror and intrigue flooding her, one thing was for sure she did not want to marry this man. His face is hard and cruel, his eyes dark as onyx as he watches Illyrio perform his submissions.

“I don’t want to be his queen. Please, please, I do not want to, I want to go home.” Daenerys' voice was weak and thready.

Viserys maintains a mask of politeness but his hatred flares when he once more thought of the weak and meek girl that he was forced to call sister. The thought that she got to live and the rest of his family strong and independent were the ones that were dead. Even the young princess Rhaenys was fiercer than her and she was a 3-year-old child murder in her own house.

Viserys kept his voice low, but there is fury behind his eyes.

“Home? How do we go home? They took it from us.” Viserys spoke in a cold voice.

Viserys grabs her arm and drags her into the shadows, his fingernails digging into her, as venom flooded his throat. Bile rises into his mouth bitter words threatening to spill from his lips. His eyes were harsh and murderous as lilac eyes were turned as a knife.

“How do we go home?” His voice was lowered.

Raged well in his heart but seeing his sister cry as fear filled her eyes forced his heart to thump with excitement as he all but leaped at the chance to see his sister in pain. Her brows contorting as her teeth grazed her lips to keep tears of pain and whimpers of agony from leaving her lips.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was nothing more than a thready whisper.

“I do. We go home with an army. With Khal Drogo’s army.” Viserys was cruel, his eyes lit up with a manic fire.

He brushes her cheek with the back of his hand and speaks to her with real tenderness, but she knew better he was thinking about his throne, lusting for power and if having to pretend to love his sister was a part of that plan he welcomed it.

“I’d let his whole khalasar fuck you, all forty thousand men and their horses too, if that’s what it took. Come, dry your eyes.” Viserys' cruel words only proved Dany’s worst fears.

Dany wipes away the unfallen tears. Illyrio, all smiles, and bows, escorts Khal Drogo toward them, most of the eyes of the room were locked not on the beggar prince but his sister, a vision of true Valyrian beauty.

“Smile. And stand up straight. Let him see that you have breasts. Gods know, they’re small enough as is.” Viserys' words made her feel small but she did as she was commanded.

Dany smiles and stands up straight, letting all her fear slip away even if she was fighting the urge to collapse under the weight of all their stares.

The night went on without incident that was until the fires began to lower and as the men left the prince and princess and Illyrio were on their way back to the manse when one last man walked up, he was dressed in glimmering black steel with enamel scales and a long crimson cloak. The moment that Illyrio noticed him there was a shudder of recognition rushed over him.

The moment that he saw him he knew him.

The white bull.

Gerold I

Ser Gerold Hightower, known as the White Bull, was a knight from House Hightower and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard during the reigns of kings Jaehaerys II Targaryen and Aerys II Targaryen. Viserys was just a child when he saw the proud white Bull but the moment that he saw him he knew him.

Sure, his hair was a more snow-white color and his brown eyes were darker but they twinkled the same way. His skin was tanner as if he were exposed to the eastern sun for too long, but he had the same wrinkles around his eyes that he got from smiling too much when Viserys was a baby.

“How?” Confusion echoed loudly in Viserys voice.

Daenerys has a sweet yet confused frown on her face as she stares at the elder man, her head cocked to the side as silver hair rippled down the right side of her shoulder. There was a dangerous charged energy to the air that they could all sense. Ser Jorah stiffened at their side.

“Ser Gerold Hightower? How is this possible you died along with prince Rhaegar and the rest of the knights aside from Ser Barristan?” Confusion rang out clearly in Jorah's voice.

Confusion flooded the air, Illyrio seemed to be the only one that did not seem so surprised.

Gerold was not an idiot; he noticed the way that a cold shudder of trepidation rushed through the fat man, noticing that his eyes were piercing, and it looked like his plan was all about to fall apart. Gerold on the other hand mentioned nothing of the look knowing that his king would handle him when he got here.

“We knew that if the king went onto the battlefield that he would never walk off, so Ser Arthur devised a plan, Ser Barristan stayed with Ser Leywin dressed up as the king and ran across the field. He was not supposed to die but when Robert bashed his head in there was no way to prove that he was not Rhaegar. The king and his Queen are both alive and well. We have been searching for the two of you for an exceptionally long time.” Gerold spoke in a matter of fact voice.

Gerold was gaging the response of not only the young prince and princess but also the fat man that he knew was up to know well. But knowing about something and doing something about it is not the same thing. But the way that darkness befell the face of the large fat man, made Gerold think that he had something to do about the missing messengers as well as their inability to find the young Targaryens.

“Rhaegar is alive?” Dany spoke in a squeaking voice.

Hope shook away her hope that she would no longer have to marry that savage that her eldest brother would protect her from her mad brother. Viserys on the other hand went from pleasantly confused or terrified as he thought about his brother taking what was his and worse. That he would stop the marriage to Khal Drogo and take away the army that he was planning on using to take what was his.

What the whole world told him was his.

“Ser Jorah, put this man in chains. He speaks lies, my brother is dead and so is his queen.” Viserys roared in a shrill voice.

The men moved at once, Ser Jorah looked hesitant but did as he was told. Gerold had wide eyes as disbelief flooded him, and at that moment he noticed it was the same thing that the rest of the city saw. The madness of a once murderous king fluttering in his son's eyes.

Now he knew better than to talk about the king and Queen, they were already on their way here he told him he found the siblings moments after getting into the city a week ago. It took him a long time to get past the soldiers and spies. Now that he had he could see that the young prince was drunk off the lies these fools told him and then there was the princess.

She was the true vision of beauty, the spitting image of her mother right down to the bruises on her arms from someone's finger ripping into her skin. Gerold could only hope that they got here in time before she was forced to marry that savage.


	7. The Start Of The Game Of Thrones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am off from work today so I plan on uploading 2 chapters today maybe 3

The Maester I

Winterfell, the stronghold, and ancestral home of House Stark is an ancient and austere place. Many acres lie within its two concentric granite walls; its keeps and towers stretch toward the gray skies above.

A raven with fluttering black wings shimmering in the pale sunlight flies into view, heading toward the stronghold with a small parchment scroll dangling from its leg. Words of the death of Jon Arryn would fill the delicate words but there would be no mention of the Targaryens and being alive. That was something that needed to be said face to face something that Ned would not be able to hear unless someone said the words to him.

The blackbird glides over the Winterfell walls, banks over the main courtyard, and comes to rest on the windowsill of Maester Luwins Chamber. The raven jumps from its windowsill perch onto the arm of Maester Luwin, an old man and a long-time friend of the Starks. He is a small, gray man: gray eyes, gray hair, gray wool robe. A heavy chain lies around his neck, much like Maester Pycelle’s.

The Maester removes the scroll from the raven’s leg and opens it. His face darkens as he reads the slim words.

“Jon Arryn is dead; the king comes North to speak with Warden Ned Stark”

The words did not seem the mind of the old man raced as his heart thundered in his chest, his mind went blank as he thought back to the elder man who once received a letter from the south. Not a day goes by that the northern kingdom does not stew in the hatred and rage caused by the Targaryens.

Lady Lyanna was never far from anyone's thoughts of the men in the North, she was the light of this dark and dank castle her laughter and joy could be heard throughout the halls. It was not until Ned had his children that the laughter came back into the halls. The thought forced a grim thought to flood against the older man's heart and face as he began to walk down the hall.

Watching as the pale sky was coming alive with light as he crept across the training yard making his way into the Godswood, a sacred spot in the North, the older man didn't feel right delivering bad news to the lord of Winterfell, especially in this holy place.

A thousand years of humus lie thick upon the forest floor, swallowing the sound of a woman’s feet as she walks. The older man watched as Lady Stark walked into the god's wood and called over to her knowing that she would give the news better than he possibly could.

“Lady Stark” Luwin spoke in a smooth and polite voice.

His light blue eyes were scanning every inch of the woman as a shock looked flutter across her as she walked over to him in long graceful strides, walking with purpose and intent. There was this mystified look on her face like she was not sure what Luwin would want with her.

Catelyn I

“What is it Maester Luwin? Is it Bran? Don't tell me he is climbing again” Catelyn let out an exasperated sigh.

She was rubbing her right temple mournfully as she thought about all the trouble that her son managed to get into just by himself. There were times when her son acted more like Lyanna then even Arya. The thought of the wild girl forced a sad smile to pull at her pink lips.

“No man we have received news from the south, I think that the Lord would take it better from you” Luwin spoke in a careful voice.

Cautious nervous energy flooded his body as with careful and depth hands handed off the scroll the moment that Catelyn took them her face turned pale. A grim glint filled her eyes as this melancholy air swirled around her. Her shoulder slump because she knew that this was going to destroy Ned.

“I will tell him” Catelyn spoke with trembling lips and anxious eyes, her finger running tenderly over the paper.

She took in a deep breath struggling to calm her trembling nerves as she started to move recently to the god’s woods. She had always felt like a stranger in the North; she was no substitute for Lyanna or any true wild northern women.

But now walking into the god’s woods she felt worse, Ned’s auburn-haired, blue-eyed wife, makes her way among the dark tree trunks, their twisted branches weaving a dense canopy over her head. In her hand, she holds the small parchment scroll.

She reaches a small grove at the center of the wood, where an ancient weirwood tree broods over a small, black pool. Looking like no tree on Earth, the weir wood’s bark is bone white, it leaves dark red. Long, long ago, a melancholy face was carved into its trunk; its deep-cut eyes are red with dried sap.

They seem to follow her as she rounds the tree forcing any anxiety that she might have quelled to come crashing on top of her like a snowstorm. Her heart began to beat just a little bit faster as her hands felt calmer than they had been just a few moments earlier. Her mind was blank, her tongue awkward and heavy in her mouth as she looked around the grove hoping to avoid the pointed stare of a certain wolf.

Seated on a moss-covered stone on the other side of the tree, Ned rests his sword, Ice, across his knees as he cleans it with a cloth dipped in the black waters at his feet. Resting at his feet a wolf as white as son the largest of the wolf pups with bright red eyes the same color as the tree.

He was silent and dangerous much like his owner. There was no emotion in his eyes. The dire wolf Ghost was always silent, and you could never tell when he strikes until it was too late.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Catelyn spoke in a revised voice.

At first, she had come here just to speak to him about their youngest daughter Arya who had been caught sparing with wooden swords and a longbow. But now her news was grim and pain-filled, she could all but sense the sorrow to come.

Ned lifts his head to look at his adoring wife seeing what he thought was melancholy but what was there to be sad about. Ned could see her shivering from the ever-present cold the same cold that he knew that she hated more than anything else. She agreed to put up with it for Brandon, but he is long dead, and Ned was her consolation prize.

Nonetheless, he loves the women before him all the same so he stood careful of the dire wolf that was resting before his feet, hands her, his cloak, which she wraps around herself before sitting on the forest floor. The earthy scent of soil-filled her nose waking up her sense as the winter pine flooded her nose.

He registers her somber face and the scroll in her hand. He stops cleaning his sword, his hand stilling over the magical blade as the icy blue aura stares back at him. Rippling steel and stars greeted him as he felt his chest deflate in defeat.

“Tell me.” Resolute and firm he spoke.

“Forgive me, my lord... there was a raven from King’s Landing. Jon Arryn is dead.” Her voice shook with apprehension

Ned looks at the wet sword, lying flat across his lap, thinking about the last time that the man he saw as a father was alive.

“How?” Ned question, not once looking up from his sword

“A fever took him. He was healthy at the full moon and went by half.” Regret chilled her blood.

A still wind rustled the blood-red leaves as Ghost let out a soft whimper as he nuzzled the hand of his master. Ned absently began to stroke Ghost hoping for some calming affection in the hopes of shaking off the terror that he felt listening to the words that his wife spoke. He was the strongest man that he knew, if the fever could take him then it could take anyone.

“Your sister, the boy...?” Ned spoke in a hesitant voice

Fear flooded both their chest cold and chilling forcing goosebump to fill their chest as the cold seeped so deep in their bones that their bodies went limp and their minds blanked. Then after what felt like an eternity the red-haired Stark spoke in a sure and quickened voice.

“The letter said they’re well,” Catelyn spoke with some relief but not much.

Ned looks more angry than grief-stricken. He dries his sword with a swatch of oiled leather, Catelyn knew that her husband must be thinking about all the family that he lost and how now he would have to add the name of his foster father to the list.

“He loved you very much,” Catelyn spoke as she watched her husband fall into a pit of despair.

She could tell that he was questioning every life choice that he might have ever made all in a single instance. It was like all the work that they had done. To move past a few short minutes that seemed to define their whole linage. Now the time was moving back, and he was descending into a bitter and heartbroken man. The same man that lost his brother, sister, and father to the Targaryen.

His brother Benjen married a Mormont, but it feels as if he had lost him since he spent most of his time on the island. Now he must think about all the mistakes he made and might make after hearing this news. Catelyn wished she could give him comfort but she knew that was not going to be possible. Not really.

“I haven’t seen him in how long, nine years?” Self-hate oozed with the words he spoke

Gray eyes darkened to the color of the wet stone as hate threatened to pool into his heart.

“You couldn’t have known—” Catelyn tried to speak sense, but Ned cut her off.

“Of course, I could have known. He was an old man. Every year he asked me to visit and every year I told him, Next year.” Ned spoke his self-hate growing with each passing moment.

He sheathes the blade. Catelyn reaches for his hand, but he pulls away for a moment they are silent.

“The girls won’t remember him. Bran never met him.” Pain washed over his face as he spoke, bowing his head hoping to head his pain.

“You’ll tell them the stories,” Catelyn spoke doing her best to calm her husband.

“Old Jon would have been proud of Bran. He was a brave boy at the beheading. I hate that all these kids are going to have is memories of those that I love the most, they have memories of their uncle, aunt, and grandfather now we will have to add Jon to this list.” Cold-hearted hate-filled Ned’s mind.

Catelyn is troubled by the thought.

“Eight is too young to see such things.” There was outrage in her voice.

“Should I tell you about the things I saw before I was eight? He will not be a child forever. And winter is coming.” The annoyance in Ned's voice rubbed his wife the wrong way.

The words disturb Catelyn, but she keeps her silence.

“His brother helped him,” Ned spoke in a cold voice.

Catelyn, realizing she has broached the wrong topic at the wrong time, changes the subject.

“The raven brought more news. The king rides for Winterfell. Along with the queen and her  
brothers.” Catelyn spoke a matter of fact.

Ned hated the Lannister he flirted with; if they had acted early and picked the right side then his sister would still be alive, if Jamie had acted sooner his father and brother would not be dead. Hate flooded his heart at the thought that they might be here, but he did not have time to harp on it

Ned considers this prospect for a moment. Clearly, Catelyn already has. They both know what it means. The position as to why the hell would Robert think that he would ever want to be handed to the king.

“He hates the cold. Always has. If he comes this far north, it’s one thing he’s after.” Ned spoke with reverent doubt and worry filling his chest.

“You can always say No.” Catelyn spoke, and all Ned wanted to do was laugh.

Ned allows a grim smile, taking his wife’s hand and helping her to her feet.

“You don’t know the king very well.” It was all that he said before preparing for the long journey ahead of them and the longer days of dealing with the king and his fan fair.

Bran II

From the stronghold’s gates, the King’s Road wends its way to the horizon -- were specks of red and gold appear, barely visible. Very slowly, they grow larger. The king’s party approached and all of Winter held stood still.

Bran climbs down the side of the tower, his hands and feet finding purchase on its jutting stones with a monkey’s unthinking agility. Climbing is as natural to him as studying is onerous. He smiles as he makes his way toward the ground in record time, incredibly pleased with himself—

Until his mother yanks him off the stones. Catelyn lowers him to the ground and sternly waits for an explanation. His heart hammered in his chest not sure what to say to his mother, he stammered out, but nothing seemed to come to mind. He had no real reason to be doing what he did.

“I was... I was...” Bran's lips trembled with panic.

His blood rushed so loudly in his ears that he could not think straight his tongue felt awkward and heavy in his mouth as he looked at his mother. Hard and cold blue eyes were locked on him as her fiery red hair made it seem like she was more enraged than usual at his bullshit.

“You were bored with your lesson, so you decided to climb the castle walls, even though I’ve forbidden it two hundred times.” The fury in Catelyn’s chest was nothing compared to her motherly worry

“I—” Bran struggled to get words out, but his jaw shook.

“Brandon... I want you to promise me: No more climbing. Promise.” Desperation took over her, she knew that he would never listen to him.

The moment that Bran looks at his feet before gazing up at her solemnly, he knew that there was no way that he was going to listen, she was tired of his lies and even worse the fact that he could get himself hurt. A sneer threatened to pull at her twitching as her lips pulled into a thin and grim line.

“I promise,” Bran spoke in a cold voice.

Catelyn leans over to look her son dead in the eye.

“You know what?” Her voice was intuitive and cool.

“What?” Bran spoke in a shocked voice.

Bright wide blue eyes were locked on his mother wondering what she was about to tell him some secret just for the two of them.

“You always look at your feet before you lie.” Her voice was cool.

Despite Bran’s best efforts, his mouth stretches into a smile, and a chuffing laugh escapes from behind it. Catelyn smiles, unable to help herself. She sees that his hands, clothes, and bare feet are filthy from the climb down.

“Go on, clean yourself up. The king will be here soon, and from now on Ser Snow will be keeping you company.” Her voice was chilled and commanding

Bran kisses his mother on the cheek but he couldn’t hide the outrage in his eyes as he watched a young man with cold eyes and a sullen blank mask with a lean body and a short sword resting on his hip stared back at the young lord. He wanted nothing more than to ignore him, but he knew that the knight would not leave him no matter how many times he tried to run off. 

It was not too long that the king’s party pours through the gates of Winterfell in a river of gold, silver, and steel, one hundred strong. Over their heads, a dozen golden banners whip in the wind, emblazoned with the crowned stag of the House Baratheon.

All the Starks were lined up at the far end of the yard, Ned’s face betrayed nothing as he watched the King’s party approach with his family beside him. Catelyn, along with their first-born Robb, their second-born son Bran, and then there were their two daughters, Sansa.

She is traditionally beautiful, taking after her mother's family with her high cheekbones, vivid blue eyes, and thick auburn hair. She is eleven years old, though she is tall for her age, graceful, and womanly at times many see her as spoiled and foolish. Including her younger sister Arya. Sansa is described as soft-spoken and sweet-smelling.

Then there is Arya. She is nine years old. Her appearance is Starker than Tully, with a long face, grey eyes, and ratty brown hair. She is skinny and athletic, when she was first born Ned was tempted to name her after Lyanna. But he knew that saddling her with that name would be a lot to both live down and live up.

Though she is not as gorgeous as her aunt she is still pretty, though that didn’t matter to the rest of the castle, she is bullied over her looks by her sister and the other girls at Winterfell who call her Arya Horse face. Then finally there was their youngest child Rickon, a sweet mild-mannered child.

Rickon favors his mother Catelyn in appearance, having the bright blue eyes, auburn hair, and easy smile of a Tully. Young Rickon is playful but temperamental and stubborn. He has breathless laughter and fiercely tries to be like his older brothers much to both their annoyance. Rickson’s family often thinks of him as a baby

Ser Jaime rides through the gate and into the courtyard.

“Is that the king?” Bran whispered the question to his brother.

All the while he felt the eyes of Ser Snow at his back, knowing that he would never get away from him only ruined his mood.

“That’s Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer.” Rob spoke as if it should have been obvious.

Bran cannot take his eyes off the man. He has heard the stories that he had killed his king and people cheered him for it. He broke an oath and that confused Bran more than anything else. Was it okay to break your oath if the oath you are breaking is with a mad man?

Tyrion Lannister rides behind his brother Jaime, studying the castle and its occupants, missing nothing ripping Bran from his thoughts as he looks to the rest of the Royal party. Joffrey Baratheon the crown prince, tall for his age, and haughty.

Joffrey has the Lannister look, he is tall for a boy his age, with blond curly hair. Known to be handsome, he has deep green eyes and pouty lips. Bran thought that he looked like a girl but the moment that Sansa saw him, she was madly in love even if he did not notice her. Her bright blue eyes lit up with thoughts of beginning a princess and riding south with her gallant husband and king.

But beside him was the last person that you would think is gallant or handsome, Sandor Clegane also is known as the hound Joffrey bodyguard. Sandor is a huge and heavily muscled man. He has grey eyes, his nose is large and hooked, and his long hair is dark and thin.

One side of Sandor's face is gaunt, with sharp cheekbones and a heavy brow, while the other side is a burned ruin of scars. Slick black flesh is pocked with craters and deep cracks that ooze red and wet, his ear is only a hole with a stump, and a hint of bone shows on his jaw.

The scars extend down to his throat. There is a twisted mass of scars around his eye, which is still good, not harmed by the fire, but he has no lips on that side. Sandor brushes his hair so that it covers his burned side since no hair grows there.

It was enough to flinch away from the sight of the scarred face of the young lordling Bran and he was not the only one Sansa was forced to avert her from the sight Instead she turned her attention to the knights that flanked the large men in snow-white capes

Then there the king himself, a black beard covers his double chin, but nothing can hide the belly that threatens to burst his doublet’s buttons. The king vaults from his warhorse and gives Ned an imperious once-over.

“You’ve gotten fat.” Robert's voice was a matter of fact.

Ned tries to maintain his stony decorum, but it is hopeless, he let out a burst of laughter as he shook his head heavily. Robert joins in, engulfing him in a bone-crunching hug. He finally releases Ned, who takes a moment to catch his breath.

“Nine years! Why haven’t I seen you? Where the hell have you been?” Robert roared with amusement.

Even as he spoke, Ned could see the worry that was refusing etches its way into his word or his face but there was a dangerous spark in his eyes that said that there was something that they needed to talk about.

“Guarding the north for you, your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” Ned gave him a sly smile.

He knew that sooner or later they would have to talk about whatever was bugging the fat king.

As the king’s party dismounts, an ornate wheelhouse pulls into their midst. The queen emerges with her children. Tommen, a seven-year-old boy, is plump, with long white-blond hair. He has golden curls and emerald green eyes. Then there was only daughter Myrcella, she has golden curls, emerald eyes, and full lips. Myrcella is delicate, beautiful, and courteous, she is eight.

Ned kneels to kiss her ring; her smile is a pure formality. Robert, on the other hand, embraces Catelyn like a long lost sister. As the children on both sides are brought forward and introduced, Robert steps back to Ned.

“Take me down to your crypt. I want to pay my respects.” He spoke in a commanding tone.

Though the air was now filled with grief, the moment that Lyanna was brought up there was an icy chill to the once cordial look on the Queen's face.

“We’ve been riding since dawn. Surely, the dead will wait.” The moment that Cersei said death.

Her husband gave her a murderous look, one that screams you will always be below her even if she is dead. Robert gives her a hard look, and Cersei stares back at him, uncowed. Finally, Robert turns and walks away.

Ned III

After an awkward and apologetic glance at the Queen, Ned leads Robert toward one of Winterfell’s old towers knowing that in the darkness and solitude of the crypt he would finally ask what was truly going on with his longtime best friend. Ned holds a lantern as he leads Robert down the narrow, winding stone steps.

“I thought we’d never get here. All the talk about my Seven Kingdoms... a man forgets your part is as big as the other six combined. It snowed on us! Snow!” Ned could tell as Robert spoke that he was avoiding telling him something.

As they descend, their breath becomes more and more visible from the cold, and Robert is becoming more and more labored.

“How will you stand it, man, when winter finally comes? Your balls are frozen right up into your guts for the next twenty, thirty years?” Robert continued to gripe and whine.

“The Starks will endure. We always have. But that is not what you wanted to talk to me about.” Ned spoke in a cautious voice.

“You need to come south, get a real taste of summer before it’s gone. Everyone is fat, drunk, and rich. And the girls, Ned! Women lose all modesty in the heat. They swim naked in the river, right beneath the castle...” Robert spoke, and Ned said something.

Ned sweeps the lantern in a semicircle; shadows lurch along a procession of granite pillars that recede into the dark. Side by side they proceed, their footsteps ringing off the stones as they walk among the dead of House Stark.

Between the pillars on either side: granite sculptures of the deceased sitting on thrones, their backs against their sepulchers. Great stone dire wolves curl around their feet. Ned stops at the last tomb and lifts the lantern.

The crypt continues into the darkness ahead of them, but beyond this point the tombs are empty, waiting for him and his children. In front of him, illuminated by the lantern, a beautiful young woman stares out at them with blind, granite eyes: Lyanna Stark, Ned’s sister.

“She was more beautiful than that,” Robert spoke as much as he was willing to, what did he want to tell Ned.

Ned waited patiently.

Silently, Robert kneels and bows his head. Ned joins him. Robert’s voice is hoarse with remembered grief.

“Did you have to bury her in a place like this? She should be on a hill somewhere, with the sun and the clouds above her.” Robert spoke in a cold and husky voice.

“She was a Stark. This is her place.” Ned did not know how to say it any other way.

Though there was nobody in the crypt, just empty darkness that threatened to swallow them up. The king rises to touch her cheek, his fingers brushing the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh.

“In my dreams, I kill him every night” Robert spoke in a cold voice.

“It’s done. The Targaryens are gone.” Ned spoke in a firm voice.

But for once he did not know that to be the truth, there was doubt fluttering across the face of Ned’s best friend. The warrior Robert used to be surfaced in his face, pitiless rage bubbling to the surface as his eyes scanned the image of the women that he once loved. Thinking back to the men that he lost in that battle and to all that he gained.

“Not all of them, the day that Jon died he whispered something to Pycelle and Cersei in his final moments, he said the very words that we all fear would be true. Rhaegar is alive; he was not the one that died on the battlefield. Not shortly after I found out I sent out Varys to find the truth. For now, the truth will stay between us and the small council. But in the dead of night before the battle, the knights of the king guards whisked him away and placed ser Luywin in his place. He died and this whole time Rhaegar had been hiding out searching for the others.” Robert spoke in a regretful voice.

A wave of outrage and fury crashed over Ned. He could not breathe, the only solace he found in all the family that he lost was that the people responsible for the death of his family were all dead. Instead, Rhaegar was alive, escaped the wrath of Robert, and lived out the rest of his life in hiding.

He got to live a life while his sister was dead, her body missing probably nothing more than ash and a decayed corpse in the golden sands of Dorne. A sneer pulled at his lips as his pulsed race and rage flooded him.

Ned was a calm and kind-hearted man but the moment that he thought about his family but all that they endure and survive, including long harsh winters only to be killed by people that were supposed to be his allies, it was more than enough to make his blood boil.

Robert on the other hand was glad to see the murderous warrior that had once been the only thing that he knew, Ned’s fist was balled up the skin around his knuckles were a stark white as he glared at Robert. Hard cold gray stone eyes were locked on the man that he loved like a brother. His body shook as his teeth threatened to rip into the tender flesh of his lips as his lips fought the urge to sneer.

Ned knew that this was what Robert had been hiding this whole time. Though the moment that Ned connected it he spoke in a cool voice

“Where is he?” Ned spoke through gritted teeth.

Outrage blooming in his stare as he leered at Robert a cold pinning stare that screamed you should have told me sooner. Robert on the other hand sneered as he shook his head heavily.

“I don’t know but these are dangerous times... I need good men around me, men like Jon

Arryn. Men like you. I want you down in King’s Landing, not up here where you are no damn use to anybody. Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you Hand of the King. Together we would hunt down the Targaryens and end Rhaegar this time for good.” Robert spoke clearly and proudly.

Ned drops to one knee, not at all surprised.

“I’m not worthy of the honor, but one thing is for sure I will stand by your side against the Targaryens against the men that took away Lyanna from me and you,” Ned spoke with a head bent.

“Damn it, Ned, stand up. You helped me win the Iron Throne, now help me keep the fucking thing. We were meant to rule together. If your sister had lived, we would have been bound by blood. Well, it is not too late. I have a son; you have a daughter... my Joff and your Sansa will join our houses. The children will be united against Rhaegar if we do not find him first, he will find us with his sister and brother at his side. He has no true heir if he were to win the kingdoms it would be for not.” Robert spoke in a smooth voice.

This does surprise, Ned. After a moment he shakes his head and smiles.

“How long have you been planning this? Does the Targaryen being alive have anything to do with it?” Ned questions his longtime friend.

“How old is your daughter?” Robert joked but both were tense from the truth that the Targaryens were alive. Both men laugh. Robert’s face grows serious.

“I never loved my brothers. A sad thing for a man to admit, but it is true. You were the brother I chose. We were meant to be family.” Robert spoke and he was right he loved this man like family and now he would get the closure that his family never got.

Though someone was going to have to tell Benjen and soon.

How long before the rest of the realm knew the truth.

“I don’t know what to say.” Ned was utterly shock

“Say “Yes”!” Robert was starting to grow impenitent.

Ned was impatient and the only thing that he cared about was justice for his family for his sister

“Yes, Winter is Coming for the Targaryens no matter where they are. They will pay for killing Lyanna, my father, and Brandon.” Ned spoke in a firm absolute voice.

But how would Ned truly handle the truth when it came out.


	8. Pentos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second one of the day I'm going to do one last chapter for the day that is going to be a Targaryen centric then I'm going back to the seven kingdoms for two chapters then back to the Targaryens. I have a lot of plot lines in the works and I want to cover all of them.

Lyanna II

The soft swaying of the ship shook Lyanna from her sleep as she noticed the door opened softly as a strong gust of warm air started to shake her from her sleep. The heavy haze that rippled over her mind began to fade as she noticed the reason that she was waking up.

Rhaegar walked into the cabin, his shoulder slumping as he collapsed onto the bed next to her, his silver hair rippled down his shoulder like a molten silver river. He had long since washed the black dye from his hair. An exhausted haze fell on his face as his body collapsed inwards.

His indigo eyes clouding over as he did not so much as turn over to look at his wife, she knew what had got him so excited by the sounds of the deck above. There was a soft ringing of steel that Lyanna knew was the dangerous red aura sword with a rippling fire pattern known as Blackfyre. The other a dangerous black aura with that same rippling fire pattern which was Darksister.

Enyo and Aegon were sparing; they did it at least three times a day and of course, Meleys feel excluded. Things had been tensing with them, while Enyo and Aegon wanted to save their aunt and uncle from terrible choices. Meleys wanted them to stay home and let Daenerys be sold off to Horse lord for the betterment of her brother.

Between the abuse and the cruelty that both Aegon and Enyo suffered at the hands of Roberts lackeys, they knew that they could not let that same thing happen to members of their family. That only caused the three of them to be at each other's throats. Lyanna could understand the rage that her two eldest children were feeling but that did not mean that she agreed with what they were doing.

Meleys was a sweet and sensitive girl; they all knew it and they used it to torment her. There were times that Lyanna would look at her daughter and think of the sweet and gentle daughter of the good Queen. She was no dragon rider and after she gave birth she died and Lyanna feared that one day that might happen to her. They were only half Targaryen and still people wanted them dead; it worried her more than anything else.

“They are driving me up a wall, Enyo and Aegon won’t stop sparing they think that they are going to go off to battle. That kept tormenting their sister with war stories, finally, she gave up and started playing her harp they seem content now, but she is starting to get her temper problem. It is taking her longer but when her fuse is lit, she explodes. She kind of reminds me of my mother” Rhaegar spoke in an exhausted voice.

Rubbing his brow wearily as his shoulders slump, he was not wrong the further that they got from the island the more independent Meleys got. She was still the fun-loving girl who loved to stitch, sing, and play the heart. But she loved riding horses, letting her curls whipped around her face as she rushed through the forest. She had a golden filly that even now rested at the bottom of the ship.

Along with a black and tan stallion that belonged to Aegon and a matching red and black warhorse that belonged to Enyo. The two of them were like the best of friends compared to their sister who is night and day.

On the boat, the three of them were to get along and for a while, Lyanna thought that Enyo and Aegon would be married but after almost getting raped Enyo couldn't even think about a man let alone touched by one even if that man was her brother.

It took Enyo a year before she would allow anyone to touch her, the thought saddens her greatly but Lyanna would not force the issue. Even now as she looked at her husband, she could not think of her life without him. Married to that brute of a man the kind of damage that he would have down to her and their children.

She knew that Robert did not love her, he loved the idea of her, and she could never live up to his dreams. She was one woman, and he was a warrior, not one that was meant to be tied down; she was with the man that she loved. She would not be his next victim, and neither will her children.

“I know that I might have been against it, but I could only imagine what would have happened to the twins and Aegon if they were once forced to live alone in a foreign country at the mercy of others.” Lyanna's voice was weak.

Her eyes misty with outrage tears at the thought of being on the run for her whole life like these young kids were. She spent 17 years safe and happy around people that loved her, when she left her county, she knew that she was loved. These kids did not have that choice; they only ever knew the running and constant life swallowing panic that threatened to overtake them each day.

An endless ocean of grief and terror was swirling around them and there was no way that Lyanna could just let them sink to the bottom and close her eyes to their pain. The soft rocking of the ship puts them in a soft trance, Rhaegar and Lyanna gaze into each other's eyes as the warmth and silence of the cabin ease both their beating hearts.

Rhaegar’s indigo eyes are filled with something else apprehension in his eyes as he lets out a heavy breath running his finger through his silver locks.

“We can't simply go back. We will have to build a force here, Volantis would be the next place to go, Jon would be there. Though we should send a messenger there. When Ser Whent or Ser Darry should go, Arthur is well known, and with Dawn on his back, he would not be able to hide all that well. The White Bull is in Pentos they would be the best choice. Let them make sure that it is safe for us before we go there.” Rhaegar spoke in a low voice.

Though Lyanna could see the gears that were turning in the indigo eyes of the men that she adored more than life. She knew that he was right, but they had lost so many people would it be right to send the white sword out and hope that they make it out of here alive.

They were more than knights, they were family like uncles to the kids, as well as their protectors and their teachers. Arthur taught them about Dorne, the white bull taught them about Highgarden. Whent and Darry taught them all there was to know about the Riverlands.

If any of them died it would be like losing an uncle or brother especially Arthur there was no one that the children trusted more than Arthur, then any of them. They even grew up on stories about Ser Barristan the bold how he was forced to bend the knee in the hopes that one day he would see his king and brother again.

“I don't like it, but it is the best plan, we will send them the moment that we get to Pentos and save the children. We can send some people to collect Jon and make sure that things are safe for us.” Lyanna spoke in a cautious voice.

The moment that she spoke there was an understanding that passed between the two of them they knew a reason that they might not have heard from him is that he might be dead. It was something that they refused to think about but now they would have no choice but to accept it if the knights tell them as much.

“Mom!!!” Enyo and Aegon yelled in unison.

“dad!” Meleys yelled

Both parents let out an exasperated sigh knowing that this was going to be a long few weeks.

Aegon Blackfyre I

The soft gurgle of the river taunted Aegon Blackfyre otherwise known as Young Griff just another cog in the wheel, Aegon the Blackfyre son of the Pentoshi cheesemonger who at the moment was trying to sell off the Targaryen princess to savages to give him a better claim to the throne.

He had dyed his hair a deep blue that made his dark violet eyes look a blue color in a certain color, he was there but muscular, a boy of 15 strong-willed and intelligent. He knew all the kingdoms and had a knack for leading but a mean streak that in time would turn cruel and maddening.

He leaned against the railing waiting for Jon to get back, he had convinced the crimson hair man that he was the son of the dead king. Or at least that was what he thought, every letter that the king had sent to the very man that Aegon was now fooling into thinking that he Is a Targaryen.

His father even now was stopping anyone from getting to know them, sooner or later he would have to confront the true Targaryens but by then he would have all that he needs. He will have taken over the kingdoms and they would be untied against them. During the first Blackfyre rebellion they lost, but there are no more dragons in the world, and now the great Targaryen Clan to stop him.

Sure, he had to go through the trouble of living a lie and living by a fact name until he could recover his true name. But he knew that it would not belong. After all, there was no true competition. There are only children and old men standing in his way, the whole world through him dead and now he would rise above them all and he would win.

At least that was the thinking of the false Targaryen. The heat of the eastern sun flashed against his skin browning it as his mind and heart raced, he was tired of waiting. Varys was supposed to be here to talk about the next moves. 

Taking in a heavy breath Aegon looked over to Rolly, his sword shining in the light as the sun hit the curved edge exactly right. Sucking in a steady breath Aegon looked over to see a man with deep blue hair and a fiery red beard making his way over to him. By his side stood the half maester both were riding on the backs of mules and as they grinned at Aegon.

His heart began to beat fast as his hands grew calmy with anticipation and his mind raced with the next steps about taking over the west. A hungry man filled his mind as he thought of the chair with a melted sword.

The hideous throne was not something to want but the power that came with the throne. The moment that he got allies in the east he would go west and get even more. Many people blame the Targaryens for the rebellion and none lost more than Dorne.

It would be easy to play on their rage and hate for Rhaegar's actions to get them to side with him; he knew that they would be enraged and wouldn’t need any real reason to fight against the Baratheon scum that took Elia and her children from them. They would not be foolish enough to believe that Aegon was truly a Targaryen but that did not matter. If Jon believed he would keep following Aegon as long as the Blackfyre needed him to.

The small party went into town to see if there had been any ravens for us. We have been stuck in the free city of Pentos for ages and now that they finally left the city there is nothing for them to do but wait for news from the west. Even now as Aegon turned to watch Jon making his way over to him, feet slapping against the golden deck as the sun slammed down on me speaking to the large leaves.

Aegon’s heart thumped with excitement as he noticed the man that was standing in the middle between them. Varys is a master of disguise and now his appearance is gait, smelling, and he was unrecognizable

Secrets are Varys's trade, and his skill at acquiring them has earned him a reputation for being seemingly omniscient. Crucial to his trade is a spy network of children that he refers to as his little mice. Aegon knew that whatever he wanted to talk about had something to do with what was going on in the west and what his little mice and birds tell him.

The moment that he looked at Aegon there was this sly spark like he knew which one of the dragon lords would make it out of this on top. But he knew that they could not speak truthfully until Jon was not in the way. The young dragon lord looked over to Jon speaking in a cool voice.

“Lord Jon would you give us a moment,” Aegon spoke in a cordial and commanding voice.

Jon is cleanly shaven with a lined, leathery face, he has crow's feet at the corners of his pale, blue eyes, he goes by the name of Griff and is oblivious to who this boy is. That the man that he thought was dead, the man that he thought was dead was alive. He has dyed his hair blue, though his eyebrows are still red and his red roots show. Jon’s beard is still mostly red, with ash showing here and there. While pretending to be Griff, Jon prefers to wear a red wolf-skin cloak

The older man looked over to Aegon, a steady frown formed on his face but he did not say a word; instead, he made his way over to the cabins, a steady frown on his face as he did so. Outrage bubbling in those perceptive blue eyes that were desperate to have a piece of Rhaegar. Even if it meant believing a lie in an isolated world.

He gave his prince one last sparing look before going below deck leaving Varys alone with the prince only then did he begin to speak.

“Word has finally reached the west, the king and his hand now Eddard Stark have found out that Rhaegar is alive, at the moment they are still in the North planning their next moves before they move south. But they do not know where Rhaegar is. Now their attention is locked on the engagement between Daenerys and the horse lord. It is the perfect time to strike.” Varys spoke in a calculated voice.

Aegon nodded his head heavily as he leaned even further against the railing folding his arm across his chest as he spoke in a cool voice. “The Martells? Do they know? If they know then they won't side with us.” Aegon filled with worry.

Self-doubt ate away at the young prince worried that all their planning his whole life would have been wasted. But Varys simply gave him a smug smile like it was foolish to worry about such a trivial thing.

“The king doesn’t want anyone to know, let alone Martell, not only did he pardon Jamie Lannister, he never brought the killers of those children or Elia to justice. If Doran knew they would go to them immediately in rebellion. I am heading straight to Dorne from here, but I wanted to let you know that now is time to get to the Volantis and gather the Golden company. They will be the key to winning favor with Dorne. I will go now and let them know the truth and let them decide who to side with. They will be outraged to know that Rhaegar lives a happy life on a secluded island with his children and wife. They will want vengeance not only from the Baratheon’s but Targaryens as well.” Varys spoke in a sure voice.

Of course, he knew that he was right, Aegon smiled warmly as he looked off in the direction of Volantis that throne would be his by any means necessary. 

Gerold II

The darkness became normal to Gerold, he did not understand why this was happening to him he would have thought having Rhaegar being alive would be good news to the children. They were not alone anymore but instead, Viserys rushed Gerold off to a cell and did not think twice about it.

His lips curled over his teeth as he all but ordered the guards to lock Gerold up in the deepest darkest cell that they could find in the manse. The constant dripping of water seeping through the blocks as Gerold flashed back to the panic expression that befell the princess's face as she watched Gerold get pulled away.

Every sharp sound seemed to hurt her as the clanging of steel ran in her ears as Gerold faded from her lines of sight. Bright orange flames were licking against the walls forcing Gerold’s head snap up.

The soft dripping of the water seeping through the rocks told Gerold that at the very least I was not dreaming. The moist air bit at Gerold’s skin as he looked to see a smug man dressed in a black doublet with red trim.

Viserys possesses the classical Valyrian features: he has pale skin, silver-blond hair, and pale lilac eyes. He had been a small, robust, and healthy child, he was king and fun-loving and kind. But being alone in the world forced to beg and steal to get by made him bitter and cruel, now at the age of 19, after more than a decade of living in exile, Viserys has become a gaunt young man with hard lines on his face and a feverish look in his eyes.

There was this arrogant air about him as he leered at Gerold, Viserys had gotten used to being the heir of the kingdoms but instead, he was told that not only was he not the heir but the whole reason that his family lost their kingdom was their brother. The very man that could be here at any moment and rip away all that he was working so hard to take for himself. He would have to move up the date.

Lilac eyes piercing and dangerous were locked on Gerold as if he could see the way that Gerold was sizing him up.

“Where is Rhaegar?” The cool questioning voice of Viserys.

His brow began to knight together as he looked at Gerold there was a tension in the air, for a moment Gerold was not sure if he should tell him where his brother was. He knew that the spies that were after Viserys then could lead them back to his king. Not to mention that there is no way that things would end on a good note for them when he locked up the very knight sent to save them.

“Why?” Gerold questioned.

A darkness fell over Gerold’s face. He knew exactly why he wanted to know, he needed to know how much time he had before they knew where they were. Before they came here and tried to stop what was going on. Even though there are no dragons left in this world they were one of the few dragon lord families left alive and they needed to keep their blood pure if possible.

Viserys on the other hand had an annoyed look on his face as his eyes began to darken; they almost looked like a violet life color. His fingers were ripping into the tender flesh of the smooth palms of his. There were no callous on his palms; he did not work at his swordplay; he was weak, and his thin limbs were proof of that.

“To hug him, why do you think? This is my throne; he cannot walk in here and take it from me, not after father declared me his heir before Rhaegar rushed off the battlefield. Or at least that was what the world thought before he ran like a coward. Now, where is he!!!” Viserys roared with renewed fury.

Gerold could have laughed but that would have enraged, he could have given him a pitying look and he would have lost his temper and become mad. He could just ignore the prince but that might harm even more than the first two options. So instead he sat there leaning against the cool wall letting it seep into his skin.

The armor that he had once been wearing was stripped from his body as he leaned against the wall struggling to stay warm as he peered into the darkness. The dangerous glint of wet lilac eyes was locked on the older knight as a heavy tension settled over the air like a suffocating blanket. 

Gerold knew that some of the Targaryens were mad but Rhaegar was a good man and Aegon had a strong and good head on his shoulder he was ready to rule. He could not say the same thing for the young prince that was standing behind him.

“Your father was mad and would have burned all seven kingdoms if it meant that he could rise from the ashes. He made a sweet kind hearted boy his heir, a misguided action and not one that anyone would back. But that boy would have been preferred over the madman that stands before me. I am handing you a way out, a way where the princess does not have to marry that horse lord. Your brother the king has allies in the Volantis. You don’t need the Dothraki yet here you stand putting a loyal man in a cell so that you can hold onto this delusion as king of the castle.” Gerold was losing his temper.

He knew that he should be careful about what he said but he could only see rage and hatred when he looked at this boy. He was not the only one that suffered at the hands of Roberts's cruelty. Sure, it was not as bad as with Viserys and Daenerys but none of them had an easy life and this was not going to fix anything.

Viserys looked like he was going to explode his right eyebrow twitch uncontrollably, his shoulders were quaking with a murderous fury. He looked like he was going to kill the older man that rested in front of him but Viserys simply made his way out of the darkening cell as a sickening smile pulled at his face.

Viserys knew that his brother was on his way and he would make him bend his knee to his younger brother or his Dothraki army would kill him. The only problem was when they were getting here.

It had been days since the crazed prince had been in the cells or at least Gerold thought that with days it was hard to tell the time when he couldn’t see the sky or hear the chirping of birds and the sweet songs of girls fell on deaf ears.

It was only when there was another set of flames flickering in the light, the soft flickering flames stared back at Gerold. A young woman in her early teens, Daenerys walked in, her violet eyes were dark and filled with both sorrow for what her brother did. As well as intrigue wanting to know what was going on with his brother and where he had been this whole time.

Her pale skin was hidden as long sleeves of a silk dress, hiding a bruise that Gerold knew could only be caused by the monstrous prince that placed him in the cell that he is resting in now, her molten silver curls rippled down her back like a shining current. 

Her lips trembled as she wasn’t sure what she should and shouldn’t say, the terror in her eyes as fresh as Gerold noticed that fresh tear lines were running along with the gentle and high cheekbones of the young princess. He knew that the cruel and heartless elder brother of her was taking out his rage for what Gerold had said to him on his sister.

“I'm sorry for what my brother did for you, but is it true that you are simply trying to sow seeds of deceit, or is my eldest brother truly alive?” Doubt and royalty oozed with each word that Daenerys spoke.

There was a part of Gerold that pitied her and there was a large part of him that was infuriated for the actions of the young prince it was sickening to think that even when they thought that they were the last Targaryens in the world he would still treat her like she was nothing more than a woman to continue the Targaryen line if need be.

Sorrow filled Gerold’s chest as he thought about the women that Daenerys looked so much like in his moment. Rhaella Targaryen was kind and gentle and was at the hands of a monster for a long time before the sweet release of death came for her. She died bringing life into this world Gerold knew that if she were alive, she would not be happy to see what her son was doing, and she would do anything it would take to stop it.

“Yes he is, he has hidden away on an island with his wife Lyanna and their children three of them and much like you they were forced into hiding, hunted and attacked by men hoping to gain the favor of Robert,” Gerold spoke in a saddened voice.

Gerold watched the way that Daenerys eyes lit up with hope, hope that one day she would not have to return to the seven kingdoms with her brother on her arm. Force to have his pure-blooded children.

Gerold was sure that even if the king had only a girl, Daenerys would be happier with her eldest brother then she would ever have been with the monstrous one that she is living with now. There was almost a wistful look on her face as a misty eye expression fell over her face as she swayed gentle soaking in the moist breeze that only the cells could provide.

"I would have liked to meet him,” Daenerys spoke with sadness in her voice

Guilt began to eat away at Gerold, he could only regret not finding her sooner, they all thought that she was going to be safe with her brother. How could they be so wrong, how could they not think that maybe just maybe that sweet and kindhearted boy would turn into a monster as they lived their life on the run? 

After searching the darkness of the cells making sure that there was no one listening in before he leaned forward, his left arm was chained against the wall so there were burning tendrils of pain shooting up his shoulder.

If he moved the wrong way, that bright red flashes of pain washed over him as he slammed his head back against the wall. But at this moment he ignored the pain as he looked to the young girl that sat before him.

“As you will princess I will not let you marry that Dothraki scum I will not let you be chained down to a man that you don’t love all so that your brother can play at a king a little bit longer. The king is on his way with his guard and you will be safe. I swear it on the gods, the old and the new They left nearly a month ago the moment that I got here I sent them a letter they will be here within a day if not they are already here.” The older man spoke in a chilling voice.

The moment that he looked at the princess he could tell that she was fighting with herself not sure of what to think or say, her body began to freeze as tears began to well in her eyes. At first, Gerold thought that they were tears of joy that she was going to be safe but instead she dropped to her knees.

Despair filled her eyes as her figure ripped at the ground and a panic enclosed her body as her eyes darkened with a fury one that she would not allow the man before him to see. Wet sobs left her glistening lips. But instead of speaking Gerold watched as tears splatter against the ground, dry gasp turned wet as she looked ready to collapse.

“Princess did I say something wrong” Gerold spoke with guilt gnawing at the corners of his mind.

White-hot terror and confusion began to flood his chest as he looked at the princess the moment that he saw her head snapped up he knew that something was going wrong but it had nothing to do with him.

“Unless he is hereby tomorrow it is all going to be for naught you have been down here for two weeks, by tomorrow the final preparations for the wedding will be done and I will be the wife of a Dothraki horse lord.” She cried heavily as desperation flooded Gerold’s chest.

“I will get you out, just grab the key and I will get you out of here. I will not let you go down the same path as your mother.” Pain flooded Gerold's chest as he thought of the Queen.

She lived a tragic life and had a tragic end. He would not let the same thing happen to her. He would make sure that she made it out of this alive no matter what happens. She would not be a slave.

Daenerys snapped her head up with a relief filling her as she looked up to the older man, the knight had a fiery determination in his eyes that screamed there was no way that he was going to fail.

For a moment, the young girl let herself hope. Hope that for once her life would not turn out to be this steaming pile of shite that it had been the past couple of days. For a moment she had hope and he would hold onto this moment for dear life.

“I'll get the key just be ready.” It was all that she said as she rushed out of the dungeons.

For both of their sakes, they better hope that the rest of the Targaryen Clan can get here soon.


	9. Lies and Decite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last one of the day and I know that the west chapters don't seem all that interesting but they are and they are only going to keep getting better so bare with me.

Daenerys II

The darkness swirled around Daenerys as she crept through the dank dungeon, the soft jangle of keys ruined the silence that she was trying to betray. Her long legs carried her with quick and purposefully strides, her heart pounded in her chest as terror her long strides carried her to the cell that was resting at the end of the long hall.

The heaviest air enclosed her lungs allowing her to breathe just a bit easier as she crept through the darkness thinking about the brother that she would get to know. The nieces and nephew that she would soon meet, she wondered what they were going to be like. Would they be wild and untamed like the she-wolf?

Or sweet and noble like her elder brother, her mind rushed with the different possibilities, she could hardly contain her excitement. But the smile that was slowly starting to creep across her face slowly began to fade as she got to the cell. She knew that if this did not work, she would have awoken the dragon.

Her brother would make sure that she never made it out of this alive, and if she did then she would be beaten and left for dead. If she was lucky her brother might let her live long enough to use her to buy him an army, she knew that they would have loved to have a Targaryen in their bed even if it was only for a few moments.

Her heart chilled at the thought as she peered through the darkness to see the recent fluttering of hope that was filling the air. The moment that she saw him her heart quickened as her tongue grew awkward as her hands began to shake, wanting nothing more than to get out of here.

“Ser Hightower are you ready?” Daenerys voice was nothing but a whisper

Her eyes looked luminous in the light as the older man that was sitting in the cell peered into the darkness, he expected to see a light like with the torch but instead, there was nothing. But he knew by the sweet and frightening voice that it was none other than the sweet princess being abused by her brother.

The soft rattling of chains filled the air as gentle nimble fingers were gripping at the bars as her fingers twisted the key as quietly as possible but there was still a loud boom as she walked into the cell. The scent of filth and stench from a fortnight nearly a month filled the nose of the princess; it took all that she had not to scrunch her nose up.

The moment that she reached the old knight her finger brushing up against the smooth tender skin of the older man. Goosebumps began to form on her skin, shocked at the human contact that he had not had for a long time. The moment their eyes connected they knew that they must rush before any of them found them.

Daenerys' fingers were shaking as she worked on the monocle holding the older knight to the wall, it took all the strength in her body to steady her beating heart. His eyes raced against the black monocle as the older knight spoke in a smooth and gentle voice. Doing his best to calm the frayed nerves of the nervous princess.

“Take a deep breath princess, you were careful and smart they don't know that you are down here take your time,” Gerold spoke in a sweet voice.

The moment that he spoke something in Daenerys calmed and a fire began to grow within her, her fear began to fade away. A dangerous beast was awakening in her, with each terrifying moment that past she grew just a bit stronger until a raging fire would build in the back of her throat and she would truly breathe fire.

When she went back to work on the monocles her hands were no longer shaking with utter terror instead a sense of calm rushed over Daenerys. Taking one last look at the monocles they both heard a sharp click as the shackles fell to the ground with a heavy thud. The moment that the shakes are off both let out a sigh of relief.

“Let go princes quickly to the ports by now the Targaryen ships must be here. They were in the summer isles already in the east; it would not have taken them long to get here.” Gerold spoke in a knowing voice.

Jumping to his feet, ignoring the lightheaded feeling from not eating just yet, ignoring the aching of his bones and the feeling of fire rushing through his veins as pain spiked through his chest. But he never let this invigorate not in a long time he knew that he had to get the princess out and for once he was proud to be a knight of the king’s guard. He was doing what he was trained to do to protect the innocent.

Gripping tightly to the princess he yanked roughly on her arm and they went rushing out the dungeon dragging her along as the wind ripped through her hair. Her violet eyes were scanning every inch of the dark expecting someone to come out and come get them. It was only when they were close to the exit inches from the exit when there was a sound of rushed harsh laughter and a guttural tongue.

Daenerys did not need to see them know that she was about to get caught, terror flashed fresh in her eyes knowing that if her brother found out that she would be dead. All that fire and power began to fade as cold sinking fear flooded her body, her legs began to shake, and she could not move. She was ready to give up and let her legs collapse with a rough and callous hand Gerold pushed her into the shadows.

Her shoulder slammed roughly against the hidden passageway, after she hid in the darkness not a moment later three men that she knew to be the blood riders were walking through the hall. At the head of the pack was the man that she would be forced to marry tomorrow night.

Terror flooded her as dangerous obsidian eyes were locked on the older man; Drogo didn't speak much of the common tongue but when he spoke, he did so in a rustic voice.

“She is mine, you will not take her.” His voice was broken, and it did not sound like he understands much of what he was saying.

Gerold's eyes were wide with doubt as swift and sure hands curled around the smooth handle of his curved crescent blade gleamed in the light coming from the endless tunnel. Drogo had a dangerous sneer on his lips as Daenerys was forced to keep her terror-filled shrieks to herself as she watched Gerold's head go rolling.

She could only watch on with horror as blood erupted like a geyser and his head rolled a few feet, husky laughter started to fill the air the moment that the scent of shit and piss filled the air. With his final death rattle Gerold was gone and with him the last whips of hope that Daenerys held onto.

She would have to marry that monster who murder a man who was just trying to help her.

_ The Day of the Wedding _

Outside the city walls of Pentos, hordes of Dothraki warriors along with their women, children, and slaves gathered to celebrate their Khal’s wedding day. Though to Dany, this was nothing more than a means to the end for her. All she could think about is the head that rolled down the hallway and the husky laughter that tainted the headless corpse.

An earthen ramp has been raised in the middle of a vast grass field. Dany sits beside Khal Drogo wishing that her family would come and save her soon. Beautiful as she is in her wedding silks, she looks as scared as a trapped animal. Wishing more than anything that she had a dragon to whisk her away from this place.

Khal Drogo does not seem to notice her. He shouts commands and jests in his tongue to his blood riders, who sit below him on the second-highest level of the ramp. Also seated on that level are Jorah Mormont, Magister Illyrio, and Viserys, who looks splendid in a new black wool tunic with a scarlet dragon on the chest.

They are during an urgent conversation, keeping their voices low. Illyrio waves languidly ring glittering on his fingers.

“Trust me. The Khal has promised you a crown and you shall have it.” Illyrio spoke.

But his mind was back to Gerold; he could only hope that the king was not on his way here, he knew that they planned to see who the better king would be. Sure, there was a part of Illyrio that was only doing this for money and for the love that he held for his last late wife.

But he knew that Varys was doing this for the betterment of the realm. He did not think that Robert had the skill to hold the Kingdoms. Aegon was a good boy with a strong head on his shoulders, Rhaegar was selfish but a good and beloved leader at one part. Viserys was the legal heir in the eyes of certain people thanks to the mad degree of a madder man.

“When?” Viserys spoke in an impatient voice.

There was a sneer on his face. He was worried that his brother would get here before he got his Dothraki armor. His lilac eyes were locked on his sister and that overwhelming sense of hatred rushed over his form once more. They treated this dimwitted 13-year-old as if she were a queen and that ticked him off more than anything.

He knew that she had something to do with Gerold getting free, but he had no proof, now he could only hope that they got this over and done with within the coming minutes.

“When the Khal chooses. When the omens favor war.” Illyrio did not show his annoyance even though he was tired of answering these foolish questions.

There was a part of Illyrio that wanted nothing to do with this prince but he is one of the last three full-blooded Targaryens left in this world, he knew that one of the Targaryens would hatch the eggs that are hidden in the chest that he was going to give away to the princess. He knew the moment that he did give the princess those eggs then Viserys would lose it.

“I piss on Dothraki omens. I have waited fourteen years to get my throne back. I’m tired of this country, tired of living with savages.” Viserys spoke as if he was too good for them all.

He was weak, mad, and had no power; he had no right to look down at the others when he was below even them. Though try to tell him that and he would have lost his shit and attacked someone and then he would get himself killed.

Above them on the ramp, Daenerys steals a glance at Khal Drogo. He seems unaware of her existence, staring at the grass below with no expression on his face. Daenerys turns to see what he is watching: Dothraki drummers’ pound on their horse skin drums as a dozen young Dothraki women begin dancing for their Khal.

The Dothraki are not repressed people. The dance is overtly sexual, so overt that a warrior soon steps into the circle, grabs a dancer by the arm, pushes her to the ground, and takes her right there in front of the cheering crowd. Khal Drogo grins and nods. This is appropriate wedding behavior.

Daenerys watches with horror wishing more than anything that the young prince Aegon would save her, after Gerold appeared the wedding being moved up. She dreamed that the wild and kind prince would be here to save her. But instead of him bursting into the circle a second warrior has grabbed a dancer, and then a third.

The trouble begins when two warriors try to lay claim to the same woman. Both men draw their scimitars and begin swinging at each other. The combat is fast, brutal, and efficient, the steel blades blurring in the sunlight. Finally, one man misses a parry. An instant later his entrails spill onto the dust and he falls.

The victor seizes a girl-- not even the original girl they were fighting over-- and the crowd roars in approval. Daenerys struggles to keep from vomiting. The platter of blood sausages in front of her does not help. Illyrio claps politely confusing the young prince as he turned to explain to Viserys:

“A Dothraki wedding without at least three deaths is considered a dull affair.” His voice was smug, and a sly smile pulled at his greasy fat lips.

Khal Drogo stands and raises one hand. Instantly the horde goes silent. The only noise is the bleating of a lost sheep. Drogo looks at Dany. There is no sign of mercy in his face. She realizes that everyone at the wedding is watching her.

Finally, she stands. He nods and leads her down the ramp, into the center of the field. Dany stands beside her new husband, encircled by her new tribe, looking exceedingly small and pale next to Drogo. Terror forced her hands to shake as terror flooded her body.

Viserys looked on in total confusion as he looked to Illyrio once again expecting an explanation.

“Time for the gifts,” Illyrio spoke as if he was an obvious thing.

Dothraki men surge forward, prostrating themselves before their Khal and laying down gifts in a growing pile: medallion belts and painted vests, soft furs and silks, silver rings.

Viserys was the next one that approached with a thin smile on his face. He leads three handmaidens. Two are Dothraki girls with black hair and almond-shaped eyes. The third is fair-haired and blue-eyed.

“These are not common servants. Irri will teach you riding, Jaqui the Dothraki tongue, and Doreah... the art of love.” Viserys spoke as if he was doing her a favor.

His eyes were cruel and taunting as he grins at Doreah, who lowers her eyes, a slight blush of shame rushed against her face. Her fair hair framed her face well as she felt the eyes of savages locked on her.

“She’s quite good. Illyrio and I can vouch for that.” Viserys spoke.

A disgusted frown might have formed on Daenerys’s face if she was bolder, instead, she placed a sweet smile on her face as she looked to the next man that was coming in close. Ser Jorah. Ser Jorah approaches next, laying a small stack of old books before Dany and bowing deeply.

“A small gift, my princess, but all a poor exile could afford. Songs and histories of the Seven Kingdoms.” Ser Jorah spoke in a sweet voice.

The gift touches Dany: she smiles and speaks for the first time at her wedding.

“Thank you, Sir.” Her sickle sweet voice voices his heart to flutter just a bit faster, proud to be of use once more.

Ser Jorah is pleased that his gift is pleasing. He glances at Khal Drogo, bows again, and steps back. Illyrio snaps his fingers. Four burl slaves hurry forward, bearing between them a great cedar chest bound in bronze.

Illyrio bows low and gestures for Dany to open the chest. Inside, resting on a pile of fine velvets and damasks, are three large eggs: Black as the midnight sea, alive with scarlet ripples and swirls. The egg in the middle was a deep green, with burnished bronze flecks, and the final egg is colored pale cream, streaked with gold.

She takes one into her hands. The egg shimmers like polished metal. The surface of the shell is covered with tiny scales. The moment that she touched one she was shocked at the warmth that fluttered against her fingertips. There was a dangerous spark running through her chest like lighting. A heart pounded loudly in her ears, but it sounded calmer, less hurried then her own, she knew that it had to be someone else's heartbeat calming her own.

“Dragon’s eggs, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. The ages have turned them to stone, but they will always be beautiful.” The moment Illyrio spoke there was a change in the air.

Viserys, standing beside Ser Jorah, rolls his eyes though he could not ignore the flaring outrage that was rushing over his mind and heart.

“Fakes, of course.” His voice is sullen and childish.

Fake or real, the egg mesmerizes Dany. She rolls it in her hands, letting the light play off the shell.

“Thank you, Magister. I owe you everything” It was all that she said and for a while, the only thing that she cared about was the eggs until a man walked into the center of the grounds.

A boy walked up, and he had a sword on his back, one that was arching dragon hilt with pulsing rubies hidden in a red scabbard. Daenerys notices that he is graceful and quick and has a lean build. A sly and charming smile pulled at his pink lips he had a long face but there was an unearthly beauty he was prettier than Dany.

He had bright indigo eyes that locked on the eggs he didn't look the least bit shocked and he acted as if he knew what they were even if the rest of the Dothraki savages were oblivious When he spoke he did so in perfect Valyrian, his eyes wouldn't leave the prince only flickering to give Viserys a look of disgust. The most shocking thing was his hair, a bright dazzling snow-white color, his curls never going past his shoulders.

He looked like a Valyrian and the moment that he spoke Dany knew who he was.

“Princess Daenerys I have no extravagant gift for you, but I figure that since I was here, I would free you from my uncle’s cruelty.” His voice was smooth and loving.

His hand went to his sword on his back Daenerys watched as the flame tempered with a red aurora stared back at her the moment that he pulled the blade she knew it to be Blackfyre.

“How did you get that sword.” Viserys was outraged.

There was a sneer on his face as he leered at the young prince, for a moment there was hope on Daenery's face as a dazzling smile pulled at her lips. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she leaned just a bit forward, happy to be free, the prince simply leered at Viserys.

“My father the king, you're the king and elder brother, now which one of you did it?” His voice shook with fury.

As he took a step forward there was a dangerous look on his face, Daenerys notice the nap sack that looked to be holding something in the sack something round. But when he did not get a response, he spoke again this time in a more chilling and edged tone and a guttural tongue that Dany knew to be Dothraki.

“Who killed Gerold? The old knight!!” His voice rose as fury and murderous crimson flames formed in his eyes.

Dany did not know what he was saying but she watched as Illyrio's face began to pale as Viserys looked around like a fool. Drogo on the other hand had a smug look on his face as he spoke.

“I did, who are you?” Drogo spoke in a cold voice.

First Aegon responded in Dothraki and then in high Valyrian.

“I am Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, rightful heir to the throne, you killed a dear friend, took my aunt hostage, and thought that you could get away with it. You will suffer for your crimes.”

Aegon assumed his fighting stance and Drogo just laughed he didn't see the boy as a threat not he was lean and lithe which meant that the boy was fast but Drogo never lost a fight would the young prince be able to win.

Dany panicked she wanted to be free but not if it meant that another person died, the thought terrified her, but she was forced to watch them fight. But it made her think that if he was here doing that mean that Rhaegar was here somewhere?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys think that hte Dothraki should follow Jon and Dany let me know


	10. Next Moves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First one of the days the next chapter is a Targaryen centric chapter

Little Finger I

“Should I still send the letter?” Lysa asked.

The fair and crazed Tully was not what she used to be when she was a young girl. She was lively and kind but now after being married to Jon Arryn she has changed. Lysa was a pretty, slender, high-breasted girl in her youth, dimpled and delicate.

Lysa wanted nothing more than to marry the man of her dreams as a young girl at Riverrun and that boy was Little Finger. Even now she will do anything for him including killing her husband and then making it seem like the Lannister did it. The last seed of deceit would have been sown if they sent off the letter now Little Finger was unsure.

Lysa idolized her older sister Catelyn for her betrothal to the heir of Winterfell, Brandon Stark, and hoped to one day marry a man as noble and handsome as him. Instead, she found the lowest and driest man that she could find. She called him a kind but everyone else knew the truth that he was a monster.

Lysa’s marriage to Lord Arryn was purely political, and while he was dutiful and kind to her, the marriage lacked the warmth Lysa required. Which only further the gape which led to this moment the moment that he is killed by his wife. She has grown thick of body by her early thirties, however, because of her many pregnancies, miscarriages, and stillbirths which further the divide between the two of them.

Despite being two years younger than her sister Catelyn, Lysa looks ten years older; her face has become pale and puffy, and she now paints and powders it. But she looked close enough like Caitlyn and Littlefinger to stand her.

Lysa uses scents to smell sweeter, she cannot completely hide the sour milk smell. She has the blue eyes of House Tully, but they are pale and watery. Lysa has a small, petulant mouth, and her beautiful auburn hair falls thickly down to her waist. It was the only redeeming thing about her but Little Finger looked over the women before him.

It took all that he had not to give her this look of disgust, but she was such a good pawn that it was impossible to replace now. But the news about the Targaryens was floating around the kingdoms and they could not risk sowing seeds of deciding between the lions and wolves not when the Targaryens could and probably would raise an eastern host that could take over ours at any point in time.

Little Finger knew that if the spider heard the rumor then he knew that it must have been true, though Little Finger was no fool he knew that he knew longer than the rest of them and he was not the only one. It looked like he was not the only one from the look of it Pycelle knew about it too.

He might be able to hide it from the king who is a fool but the rest of us saw it. He was just a bit more terrified than the others though that could be because he convinced the king to open the gate. Then again, the Lannister turned against the Targaryen, so they were on the chopping block.

“No, don't we need them tearing at each other's throats, we need them together against another threat to the east. For now, write that it was the Targaryens that killed Jon Arryn.” Little fingers spoke in a smooth knowing voice.

Little Finger Knew by now that the Warden of the North would be finding out the truth or at least he would wait for his brother and lord of bear island to come so that they may speak about the truth, about all of it. What Little Finger would not give to be a fly on that wall?

Cersei I

The feast for the king is in its fourth hour. A singer plays the harp at one end of the hall, but no one can hear him above the roar of the fire, the clangor of pewter plates and cups, and the din of a hundred conversations.

The long wooden tables are covered with steaming platters of roasted meats and baked breads. Banners hang from the stone walls: the dire wolf of Stark; Baratheon’s crowned stag; the lion of Lannister.

Ned and Catelyn host King Robert but he could not shake the rage that was forcing his blood to bubble, every time he drank for a moment, he forgot that the Targaryens were alive and well. But then the moment the glass was empty images of Rhaegar alive and taunting the drunken king

Queen Cersei, Ser Jaime, and Tyrion Lannister, and a few other luminaries at a table on a raised platform. The Stark and Baratheon trueborn children sit at a table directly below the guests of honor. Cersei and Jamie knew what was going on though Tyrion still did not know just yet sooner or later they would all know the truth.

Robert and Ned toast with tankards full of ale though neither of them seemed to be celebrating; they knew the truth, but they put up a good front for the others. Ned takes a healthy drink doing his best to wipe away the thoughts that filled his mind. Images of Rhaegar and wishing to see his corpse at his feet.

The ghost rested at his master heels, bright red eyes were locked on his’ owners’ friend, Robert hid his rage that he was hiding behind a blank mask. All those feelings of bitter resentment began to build like a damn demanding to explode outwards at any moment.

Robert drinks the whole tankard as images of smoke gray eyes come alive in his mind, a sweet and husky laughter fills the air of the drunken man. Grief hung heavy in his chest as his brows began to knit as he fought the urge to flashback to the moments that he had with the daughter of the Stark.

A few seats down, Catelyn notices Queen Cersei staring at her drunk husband with plain disgust. As a good hostess, Catelyn tries to distract Cersei. But she could sense that there was more going on than either of the men was willing to admit. Catelyn knew that there was something wrong. A melancholy and fury filled air swirled around the men the moment that they got out of the crypts.

“Your children are quite beautiful, my Queen. They have the gift of the Lannister eyes.” Catelyn spoke in a cordial voice.

She gave her a tight lip smile and even though she hated the fact that the Lannister did nothing to help the man that she loved she pitied the women before her. After all, that was not her choice. Cersei, a little startled to be addressed, stares at Catelyn with her vaguely reptilian green eyes.

“I heard a rumor we might share a grandchild someday,” Cersei spoke in a silky sweet voice.

Catelyn shifted her stare to the boy that his daughter might have married, his emerald eyes were soft and gentle but every once in a while, when he thought that no one was looking there would be a manic energy rushing over him. His eyes would look like wildfire in the light.

“I heard the same rumor…” Catelyn spoke.

A warm and pleasing smile pulled at her lips as she thought about the golden and red hair children that they could have.

“Of course, these decisions ultimately fall to our husbands. As all important decisions must.” Cersei sounded bitter about that.

There was a darkness that fluttered over her face as her golden hair hid the hate that fluttered in her bright green eyes. Cersei glances past Catelyn to Robert, as he gnaws on a rib and leers at the buxom serving girl refilling his tankard. Only Cersei's eyes reveal her fury, and they only do so briefly.

Jaime, sitting on the other side of Cersei, leans forward, his forearms on the table, flashing his white teeth at Catelyn. Many women have waited their whole lives for that smile, but it only serves to make her nervous.

There was no warmth behind that smile, just this darkness and hatred that seemed to be flooding with worry and doubt whatever they were thinking about it was not any good. They all thought that Robert was a drunk fool, but he was keenly aware of what was going on in the high seas. He was not so sure that the Lannister could keep their mouths shut until they found out how to deal with the Targaryens.

But he said nothing, just let himself enjoy the time that he had before he started to plan out his next moves with Ned. The mead slipped down his throat as he watched the full lips of the pretty knight talking to the red hair she-wolves.

“You’d enjoy the capital, my lady. The north must be hard for someone who wasn’t born here.” His voice was kind but that did not fool the lady of Winterfell.

“I’m sure it seems very grim, after King’s Landing. I remember how scared I was when Ned brought me up here the first time....” Catelyn tried to speak but the Queen cut her off with a tight lip smile.

“You were only a girl. I’m sure you feared many things.” Cersei spoke in a smooth voice.

Her warm green eyes were locked on the lady of Winterfell but there was no warmth to her smile or her eyes. Catelyn was uncomfortable to be around the Queen and her brother, but she kept that to herself.

“But harsh as it is, I’ve come to love it. The north gets in your blood.” She smiled as she looked at her wild children.

Loving them each in their special way. Cersei on the other hand seems skeptical, looking around the rough-hewn Great Hall, which would fit in the kitchen of her palace. Catelyn could tell that the Queen was putting her nose down on the place that she called home and loved greatly.

“Your daughter will take to the city. Such beauty cannot stay hidden up here forever. It’s time we introduce her to the court.” Cersei voice was almost taunting

The heart of the young lady of Winterfell dropped into her stomach, anxiety ate away at her mind and heart as she thought of losing her daughter to the south. She was no fool the last time that a Stark woman went south they did not make it back there was not even enough left of her to bring home.

“Mm... of course, I have two daughters.” The moment that Catelyn thought about her youngest daughter her heart grew heavy.

Arya was so much like Lyanna that it was painful, but Cersei seemed utterly startled by this, but she hid it well. If Cersei knew this at one point, she had forgotten. She sees Catelyn’s distressed look and follows her gaze to the children's table, where Sansa looks as radiant as ever, chatting with young Princess Myrcella.

Arya, on the other hand, has already ruined her evening dress. She uses her spoon as a catapult to fling a wad of pigeon pie at Bran, across the table. It hits him square in the forehead. The men and women alike busted out into laughter and Jamie looked almost impressed by her skill and accuracy.

“The girl has talent.” He appraised her skill.

Catelyn, embarrassed, begins to stand so she can take matters in hand. But Ned, passing behind her, grips her shoulders, leans down, and kisses the side of her neck.

“I’ll take care of it; the men and I have to head out for a bit anyway,” Ned spoke in a cool and tense voice.

Something fluttered across Cersei’s face that made Catelyn think that she knew something about what the men were talking about. Cersei smiles at Catelyn but she can tell that now it was far more strained than before.

To her credit, she has an excellent fake smile. The two women resume their conversation. As Ned passes behind Jaime’s seat, Jaime pushes his chair back, momentarily blocking Ned’s path. Jaime stands.

“Excuse my clumsiness,” Jamie spoke in a mocking tone.

He smiles down at Ned. Jaime is taller and broader in the shoulders. They are considered two of the greatest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms, and there can be little doubt that right now each man wonders who would win a fight.

But after a long moment, both walked out of the room together with Benjen and Robert following them out of the room their backs tensing and darkness fluttering across their face.

Robert I

There was a tension-filled the air as Robert looked over to the gaunt Benjen who has sharp features and blue-grey eyes, in which a hint of laughter is often present. The thin man has long legs. Benjen dresses in a loose-fitting white shirt with a wolf skin cloak with black pants, he wears rich velvet, high leather boots, a silver buckle on his wide belt, and a heavy silver chain. Benjen is observant and genial, although he shares his brother Eddard's dislike for House Lannister he can be tested.

The moment he walked into the room Robert could tell that Benjen noticed that there had to be something wrong with him. Being in Winterfell hurt him too much thinking about his sister and her lost life so the only time he came back was for name days and special occasion the king being here was one of those occasions.

But now those blue-gray eyes were critical and scanned every inch of his brother's face before turning to look at Jamie, there is some hatred flooding his stare but he kept his face cordial and cool as he turned back to the king bowing gently before walking over to the wall staring out the courtyard to see his wife slashing and hacking at dummies with a mace.

A warm smile pulled at his lips as the soft clicking of nails filled the air as Ghost stalked over to Lord of Winterfell sitting at his side. Robert was pacing back and forth as the buzz of his liquor began to fade away leaving only the white-hot fury that flooded his chest as he turned to look to Ned.

“Tell him!” Roberts' voice raised in volume.

Hatred flooded his mind forcing all the thought that might have been coherent began to fade away leaving only murderous thoughts. His blood was boiling, and his fury began to grow with each breath that he took.

Confusion flushed against Benjen as the smile fell from his face and he looked over to his brother's anxiety starting to pound in his chest. The last time that Robert needed to talk to them, he lost a brother, a father, and a sister to that man. What would he lose this time?

Ned on the other hand was filled with his fury when he spoke his chest deflated as rage started to fill his chest and the air that went from being still to rippling with murderous intent.

“Rhaegar Targaryen he is alive; he has been hidden in the east this whole time whoever died on the battlefield it was someone else. From what Robert tells me, he is trying to find his sibling in the east and return here to force us to regret our actions.” Ned's lips curled into a sneer as he spoke.

Benjen could not believe what he was hearing. His overwhelming rage began to take over as a fury unlike anything that he had ever known was unlocked in his chest. He remembers his father's rage as he and his proud eldest brother went off after their sister. He remembered going south, he remembered Lyanna going south but only one made it back here alive.

Now they stand here and tell him that the man that he thought was dead was alive and living a peaceful life while they were all forced to harp on all that they had lost. His rage was overwhelming and sifting.

His hands ripped at the fray edges of his clothes as all the men were whipped up in a frenzy but then there was fear-filled in the eyes of the kingslayer. He betrayed the very family that would now come back to kill them.

He knew that there is no way that the king's guard would just up and vanish if they knew that their king was still alive. That would mean that they were all alive still and they have been protecting this man their whole time. Stewing in their rage and hate as they thought they would now get their vengeance.

“So, what do we do to let them reconnect and come after us?” Benjen question.

Benjen’s whole body stilling as rage began to overtake his mind, he knew that every time that he came home it was no good. Now he got the worst news of all the man that killed his elder sister was alive and well-living life while his sister was dead. A sneer pulled at Robert's lips as he began to bellow with fury.

“We kill them all the moment that we get back to the capital we will send faceless men to kill them. Any man or woman who kills the Targaryens will get a lordship and all the riches they can get if they only kill the Targaryens. If they cannot get it down, then the faceless men will be sent. I want them dead and I want them dead no.” Robert roared with fury.

White furry bloomed brightly in his words as his finger ripped into the callous palms that had once held a mighty war hammer. Now lost in his rage and drunk on their fury they would stop at nothing to make them pay. But for a moment they did not think to realize something, if Rhaegar is alive could Lyanna be as well?

If they did then they would have to admit that everything that they knew about the start and cause of the war would be wrong. That they would not be the heroes of the rebellion but the thoughtless villains. They would have to admit that they might have been in the wrong and jumped to the point.

But they were not ready for that realization so instead, they were ready to plunge the realm into war once more rather than possibly facing the truth.


	11. A Family Runion Ends With A Bang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last one of the day

Jon II

Illyrio's manse is a stronghold within the city of Pentos. It has a view of the Bay of Pentos and as such the Targaryens made sure not to let their banner flag fly. Aegon’s heart pumped in his chest as his snow-white hair glimmered in the early morning light. The sight of the manse enraged him as he thought about what would await both him and Daenerys.

He felt a strange kinship to her, something that he never felt with his sister. Enyo was his best friend, sure, but would he ever marry her? No, he would have if his father insisted on it but if he had a choice, he knew that he would not. He always thought that he would have to marry his sister, but his heart was nervous.

Instead, he has been plagued with dreams of a silver air beauty a year younger than him, he swore that at times it was all that he could think about. Her deep violet eyes that had a way of peering into his soul each time he closed his eyes. Or the molten silver locks that rippled down her back like a shining current.

Though with each passing moment that he got closer to Pentos his dreams changed and warped into something else. The two of them were on the back of a massive scale beast that they both knew to be dragons. A bright crimson red with matching flames and blood, while Daenerys had a dragon as black as night with scarlet ripples.

They were flying over the lands free of their responsibilities, people were not hunting them down they were just at peace. Aegon wanted nothing more than to have that moment to know that dragons were real. Something was calling forth to him echoing in his mind screaming the same thing repeatedly.

Fire and Blood.

Aegon feared that it would be a sign of his insanity; he knew what his grandfather was despite what other people say. People would say that he was a great man when Aegon knew that he was a monster, they would say that he was kind when Aegon knew that she was merciless. He knew about the rape and beatings that his sweet and kind grandmother endure. That she always suffered his lunacy and fears for his life that his father suffers.

He was under no delusion that his grandfather got what he deserved but the same could not be said for the others, the children committed no crimes. The only thing that Rhaella did wrong was not killing that monster in his sleep. So why kill them if not to fear the magic that resided in their blood, Aegon would not make that mistake and he would not let Dany die, not even Viserys not yet anyway.

Aegon looked around the ship, his fingers tracing along the hilt of his sword as his mind went to Gerold; they have not heard of anything since they left the island. Was he okay or was he dead? Worry flooded Aegon's chest, Gerold was like the grandfather that he never heard and the thought of him beginning hurt or dead would do little to ease his beating heart.

His frayed nerves were turning to steel, he looked over the deck to see Enyo she was still and silent, her arms folded over her chest as she wore a lightweight black and red-scaled armor. Dark Sister resting on her hip as she stared out over the ocean.

Lyanna had a warm yet nervous smile on her face as she talked freely with Arthur, a bow and arrow at his back. Her smoke-gray eyes were lit up with joy as she talked about what Aegon could not tell if he could tell that his mother was all nervous. She was wearing the boiled leather of the north with a Targaryen sigil on her chest instead.

Rhaegar was down in the cabins with Meleys, she might have been a wimp, but she had a great mind for politics and the sword that she would make a good hand to Aegon if need be. Aegon loved his sister, do not get him wrong but they did not have much in common. Where he was loud and filled with joy, she was timid and sweet. Where he and Enyo liked to ride their horse through the forest, she stayed hidden away playing the harp and singing with Rhaegar.

Where they were wild and unruly, she was tamed. It was like the only thing that they had in common was their love for dragons and their eggs. Meleys never put her silver egg down the same could be said for Enyo and her purple dragon egg. Aegon never understood why his father gave the eggs to them.

If they did in fact hatch, shouldn't the king have a dragon at his side? Confusion ate away at Aegon as he tumbled over the thoughts of each one of the more scattered than the next. After things were felt with here, knights would be sent ahead to make sure that it was safe. But who knew how long that would take?

“We are almost there” Enyo spoke in a cool voice.

A smug smile pulled at her lips as my own lighthearted smiled at Aegon's lips, excitement flooded Aegon's chest as his hand shook with anticipation. Aegon dreamed his whole life that he would not have to lie anymore now would be his time. They would go home with fire and blood if need be.

He was going to meet his family for the first time he could only hope that it was a good thing.

“You're excited though I doubt it has anything to do with the fight to come” Enyo’s voice was sly.

Aegon knew what she was implying, and he had no problems admitting it, Aegon bumped his sister shoulder playfully as he spoke.

“Shut up. I'm just excited to meet them, both.” Aegon's voice was joking and upbeat.

The moment he spoke he looked into his sister's smoke-gray eyes and all the sorrow and tension drained from both of their bodies. For a moment they were not the forbidden siblings were not forbidden they were just siblings talking about a pretty girl.

Enyo rolled her eyes playfully as she bumped her older brother's shoulder once again, “Oh please because Viserys sounds like such a nice guy, sending his sister to be raped by Dothraki horse lords. Just admit it you want the silver hair princess all to yourself us lowly half breed Targaryens do not meet the crown princess fine taste. Or is it King now?” Enyo’s voice was cool and taunting as she joked.

There was a smugness to her voice as she leaned over the railing tossing her curls back over her shoulder so that she would get a better look at her brother smoke gray eyes critical and amused at how flustered her brother was seemed to be getting. She burst out into sweet laughter as she stared at the fading water as the sand came rushing in.

“It's not like that and you know it, I'm king not until I'm a grown man which is not for another year. As for Dany, she was brave and strong; she managed to endure all the hell that not only running away from Robert and his assassins but also that monster she calls a brother as well. I just want to get her away from that Dothraki horse lord. That's all” Aegon spoke.

But he knew that he was not fooling his sister with those words.

“Right and I'm going to marry Viserys.” She all but laughed as she walked away leaving Aegon to wait until they were on shore alone. Doing his best not to look at her growing butt as she sauntered away.

The manse has brick walls twelve feet high with iron spikes atop. There are three gates, the main gatehouse being the chief way in and out of the manse. There is one in the garden that is hidden by ivy. It is chained and guarded by some of Illyrio's eunuchs. The third gate is a postern by the kennels. The manse has pillared galleries, pointed arches, and a tiled courtyard.

Aegon thought that it was strange there was no one in the manse, sure there were a few stray guards but there was no heavy presence of people. It was almost strange. Aegon stalked silently through the courtyard with his sister Enyo at his right and his mother to his left. While Rhaegar stalked at his back with Arthur beside him.

The rest of the knights stayed back to protect the sweet and sensitive princess; the thought made Aegon roll his eyes. He knew that he needed the knights for this assault on the manse and yet they were protecting her. He loved his sister but there were times that he wished that she would be more of a warrior. He shook his head heavily as he turned to move through the manse.

There is a marble pool with a statue of a naked boy in its center. The statue is lithe and handsome, made of painted marble so that the hair is blond and shoulder-length. It is poised to duel with a bravo's blade in hand. The pool is surrounded by six cherry trees. The gardens behind the manse are extensive. Even though this place was empty, something was going on.

For a moment worry and anxiety began to bubble in his blood as his eyes shifted so that he could look at his family. Smoke gray and bright indigo eyes were scanning every inch of the gardens as they crept to the secret passageway that led to the dungeons. They would sneak up from the dungeons and their escorts, both out before anyone would notice.

Or that was the line of thinking when they moved through the manse but that changed when they saw how relaxed the security of their menses was. Usually, the manse is guarded by plump Unsullied, eunuch soldiers from Astapor. But instead, there was no one and as they got closer to the dungeon the rotating set of flesh flooded their nose.

A cold sense of trepidation folded Aegon, as his shoulders began to tense, his body stiffen, and it felt like every nerve in my body was slowly beginning to freeze until he was numb. Once a terrifying thought came across his mind. Maybe they knew that they were coming and killed them? Maybe Robert's men got to her first?

He rushed forward a white-hot rage taking over him that he never knew unless he was in the middle of a battle. His mind raced and hate flooded his mind, as his legs moved without thinking as he rushed into the darkness. The air began to cool and moisten as he could hear his family calling after them.

He did not listen. The scent of decay filled his nose as he moved across the ground and was slick and crusted as he looked down to see something that forced his heart to still. Fury bubbled in his heart as his legs started to shake from rage threatening to give out at any moment. His blood was chilled as his fingers gripped tightly to the grip of Blackfyre.

Bile and venom flooded his mouth as he looked down at the men that he saw as the grandfather that he never had were now lying on the floor. His body bloated with gray skin and off to the side was his head. His lips were pursed and his eyes wide and popping out in shock, his tongue fat and puffed out.

His eyes glassy and dead as he stared back at the prince, the loud slapping of boots filled the air as Aegon did not need to look over his shoulder to know that they would be resting behind him. A sharp gasp left his mother's lips as he looked over his shoulder to see pain glimmering in her smoky gray eyes that were darkening color.

Lyanna’s fingers were plucking at the smooth nylon strings of her silver metallic bow, on either side of the bow was a snarling dire wolf holding the strings.

Then there was Enyo, her knuckles turned a stark white as her lips curled over her razor-sharp teeth as her smoke gray grays were black as the night and filled with a fury that had been unknown to the world. Murderous wild snarls left her lips as her shoulders began to shake and a determination filled her eyes.

“Whoever did this would die,” Enyo spoke with fury oozing in each word she spoke.

The hate that filled her was almost too much to bear, Arthurs brows were knitted fury flashing across his eyes then acceptance knowing that this might be the case. Rhaegar knew that this might happen but that did nothing to elevate the guilt that had been bubbling in his chest. The fury and hate that filled him were like a damn.

It was like all the rage, guilt, and shame from hiding and running from Robert finally came bubbling up to the surface as he looked to the dead body of one of his oldest and most loyal friends. No one tried to warn him more than Gerold that things down here were not what they seem, but he refused to listen, and now here they were a dead body resting in front of him

Aegon knew the moment that he saw him why a lifelong friend and a brave knight was dead, it should have been simple. He was trying to get Dany out of the castle. Why else would he be here in the dungeon? Why else would they not have heard back from Gerold unless he was trying to save the princess? How long had he been dead?

Confusion and rage ate away at Aegon's mind as his ears twitched wishing to hear even the faintest trace of breathing from the headless corpse but Aegon knew that he was dead and that it was not going to change anything soon. But then Aegon's twitching ears picked up something else ignoring the warmth.

But the roar of the crows filled the air as they roared in a guttural tongue that he knew to be the lounge of the horse lords. Bile and venom pooled in his mouth the moment he heard it the wedding was going on and that is why there was no one here.

Why the place seemed so empty and why there was now a dead loved one on the floor he would dispose of the knight's body in true Targaryen fashion but not before he avenged his soul so that when he did make it to the 14 heavens he would be at peace.

Aegon could hear his father's distant voice but he knew that he was running as the darkness began to swirl around him the father that he got into the tunnels the thicker the darkness came. Instead of looking for directions to get out of the dungeon, he followed the sound of screams and cheers.

He was rushing out of the dungeon in record time, bright golden rays burned against his skin as the bright blue skies greeted him as slower fluffy white clouds drifted along the horizon. The dragon egg placed in Aegon's satchel began to pulse. After first he thought that it was the madness that was consuming him that he was going mad and this was just the first of many signs.

Slowly something brought Aegon to a slow trot as his fingers were running along the crimson egg watching as the metallic scales of the egg were almost glowing. A red aura is dangerous and cool locked on Aegon. Drinking in every spare morsel of his attention as he ran his fingers over the egg.

With each step that Aegon took forward the egg began to plus more and more with heat it was only then did he notice a young girl sitting at the high dais the true vision of Targaryen beauty.

Molten silver hair rippled down her back as she was dressed in shimmering silver wedding silks, her eyes were warm and gentle burning with love and terror Her deep violet eyes were dark and filled with depth, Aegon felt like he was drifting in a sea of wine there was just something about her that force his heart to beat just a little faster.

She had high cheekbones and gentle white skin that was browning under the sun, her petite form and budding breasts drew Aegon’s eyes. Everything about her seemed made for Aegon, she seemed meek but if you look at her the right way you could see the determined and proud air about her hidden beneath the meek persona.

His eyes shifted however to a large fat man with a yellow fork beard, now that he saw him, he knew that was the man that owned the manes. Aegon never saw Illyrio but he heard of him how he went from being a skinny skilled swordsman to a fat fool who plots and plans in secret.

Aegon knew that he was never to be trusted no matter how many gifts that he gave them, after all, he was sure that he is the one that created this whole plan to give away Daenerys to these monsters.

Illyrio bows low and gestures for Dany to open the chest. Inside, resting on a pile of fine velvets and damasks, are three large eggs: Black as the midnight sea, alive with scarlet ripples and swirls. The egg in the middle was a deep green, with burnished bronze flecks, and the final egg is colored pale cream, streaked with gold.

Daenerys takes one into her hands. The egg shimmers like polished metal. The surface of the shell is covered with tiny scales. The moment that she touched one she was shocked at the warmth that fluttered against her fingertips.

The moment that he saw them he knew what they were dragons’ eggs but how? Confusion echoed deep in his chest as for a moment he could not understand how dragons’ eggs got this far east but then his mind flashed to the stories that his father used to tell him. There was one about the princess and first-born daughter of Jaehaerys Targaryen.

She was in love with a woman who took three eggs from the island. It made Aegon wonder if those were those very eggs. But the last time that anyone had seen the eggs they were in Tyros. There is no way that these could be those eggs, right? Confusion echoed in Aegon's chest as he took slow cautious steps forward.

“Dragon’s eggs, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. The ages have turned them to stone, but they will always be beautiful.” The moment Illyrio spoke there was a change in the air.

Viserys, standing beside Ser Jorah, rolls his eyes though he could not ignore the flaring outrage that was rushing over his mind and heart. The moment that Aegon saw him there was outrage flooding his chest his pale eyes and silver lock drove him to a murderous rage. Aegon remembers seeing his sister half-dressed and terrified as she cried her snow-white curls slipping past her fast trying to hide her tears.

When Aegon saw that he was filled with a murderous fury he wished that her attackers were brought back from the dead just so that he could kill them. Yet here Viserys stood looking more upset about his sister’s wedding gifts rather than selling her off to a man that would rape her and force her to have his children.

A disgusted sneer pulled at Aegon's lips as every muscle in his body screamed to take Viserys head, but he was one of the last Targaryens in the world he couldn’t do that no matter how much his mind and his body ached and wished that he would. Instead, he would subject him to save life as Daenerys, he would exist only to further their bloodline.

Aegon watches with disgust.

“Fakes, of course.” Viserys' voice is sullen and childish.

Aegon had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the very sight of the fool, though his legs started to move without his permission as he crept closer to the women that he found so enthralling.

Fake or real, the egg mesmerizes Dany as much as her beauty mesmerized Aegon. She rolls the eggs in her hands, letting the light play off the shell.

“Thank you, Magister. I owe you everything” It was all that she said and for a while, the only thing that she cared about was the eggs until she noticed Aegon.

He could feel her eyes searching every inch of his face before moving to his body, then his legs, finally letting her eyes scan the knapsack that had the same pulsing egg. Aegon forgot that he even had Blackfyre in his grasp until he felt the skin begin to stretch even more across his knuckles.

“How did you get that sword.” Viserys was outraged.

Aegon shifted his sights to see that Viserys was looking him up and down he wanted to laugh to say that he called this. There was panic in Viserys eyes; he knew who Aegon was even if he did not say the words. There was tension building in the lanky limbs of Viserys almost like he feared Aegon scared of what he might find out.

A tension thick and heavy sat in the air threatening to compress all those in the meadow if it was not elevated and soon. Aegon paid the mocha skin men and women no mind looking only at the fair skin Targaryens that were standing amongst them. Daenerys looked on at Aegon with stars in her eyes.

Daenerys much like Viserys knew that he was their nephew there was almost this look to release in her eyes as she let her eyes flicker over the sword before a warm smile formed on her face as she could barely sit in her chair. She was so close to being free that she could taste it, the thought made Aegon smile as his heart flooded in anticipation.

If not for the overwhelming rage that was swallowing him then he might have had this bright beaming smile on his face as he stumbled over his words like a fool. But instead, all he could think about was the gentleman that treated him like a grandson and that whipped away any joy that he might have felt.

There was a sneer on Viserys face as he leered at the young prince, he thought that he had stopped Gerold in time to keep his brother and his family away but instead here they stood. A billowing feeling of hatred flooded Viserys chest but there was also this sense of calm. If he could not stop them then he would have to kill them and, in the process, he would be able to get an ancient sword out of it.

“My father the king, you're the king and elder brother, now which one of you did it?” His voice shook with fury.

Aegon could barely keep a lid on it as his fingers shook against the grip. There was an inferno of fury bubbling in his chest as his blood came to a boil as his skin turned bright red from rage. Bile began to spill into his throat as his tongue felt heavy and awkward in his mouth. As his mind shifted gears, he thought back to all the lessons that he received from the tutors.

He learned the languages of the east and the west. He seemed to have a knack for it, it was one of the few things that he got from his father. So, when he spoke, he did so in the language that he knew these horse lords would understand.

Aegon took a step forward there was a dangerous look on his face,

“Who killed Gerold? The old knight!!” His voice rose as fury and murderous crimson flames formed in his eyes.

He could feel a great sense of power and urgency rushed over him as images of gentle brown eyes were filling his mind, sweet smiles, and wrinkle lines could be flashed across his field of vision as his heart began to ache. He would not let his death go unpunished but as he looked at Dany, he could tell that she did not speak the language of her future horse lord husband.

Drogo the horse lord on the other hand had a smug look on his face as he spoke.

“I did, who are you?” Drogo spoke in a cold voice.

First Aegon responded in Dothraki and then in high Valyrian.

“I am Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, rightful heir to the throne, you killed a dear friend, took my aunt hostage, and thought that you could get away with it. You will suffer for your crimes.”

Aegon assumed his fighting stance and Drogo just laughed, he didn't see the boy as a threat, not he was lean and lithe which meant that he was fast but Drogo never lost a fight and he would be able to win.

“Run home little boy” Drogo spoke in a taunting voice.

The moment that he spoke there was white-hot embarrassment rushing across Aegon’s checks as booming laughter of men and women alike echoed in the air.

But he stood his ground letting his hate-fueled him and his hunger for vengeance without it he might have crumpled like a leaf in the wind. But he knew that if he showed off his power then he would be the one to win against the Dothraki; he knew that they believed in one on one combat.

However, some of the Dothraki did not get that message because they began to circle him, a murderer looking filling their dark obsidian and chocolate brown eyes. All of them yelling taunts and jeers as they circled Aegon like hungry dogs.

“He is prettier than most of my sister.” Drogo pulled his silver arkah from the horse leather holster on his hip.

His oiled black hair rippled down his back as he threw his hair back a smug smile on his face as the soft ringing of bells filled the air. He shoved his arkah at Aegon but made no move to attack him, there was a part of him that looked almost amused when Aegon refused to flinch.

“I am not my foolish uncle, I will not back down until you are dead.” Aegon's voice was sure and strong.

There was a comment to his foreign words that Dany could not understand but she knew that he would not stop until she was safe with her true family. He could hear the shifting behind him he knew that they were going to attack. But a sharp pop and whizz filled the air making the rest of the men stopped.

Aegon thought that it might be the Dothraki stepping in but as he snapped his head back, he could see his mother a sneer on her lips as she tilted her chin out. Her fingers plucking at the string of her bow as with pinpoint accuracy her gleaming silvertip arrows slammed the half-naked throat and two more arrows slammed through the heart of the other two men.

She spoke in crude Dothraki, “A real Dothraki man would fight him one on one, after all, he is prettier than any of your sisters, this should be easy.” Lyanna’s voice was taunting as she spoke.

There was a smug air about her that forced her son to smile as he turned back to give the horse lord a taunting smile. Ingrid eyes locked on obsidian and both had a silent battle of wills. Refusing to break the silence both were pretty and cold. Daenerys watched them both fight with silent wills.

Both wanted to make sure that the other knew that they were going to lose after a stilling moment both came rushing at each other. An animal ferocity flooded them both as a booming heart and rising ocean breeze rippled through midnight black and silver hair rippled in the air.

Pivoting sharply on Aegon’s right foot forward but Drogo was just as fast as Aegon was and there was no stopping them they would keep fighting until one of them was dead and Aegon was determined to make sure that was Drogo.

Aegon did my best to kill him quickly but found it more than a little difficult, Aegon was splashing upwards while a crescent moon shaped blade came rushing downwards. Sparks of orange and yellow flew as a soft clang filled the air.

Aegon spun sharply on his heels dancing out of the way as his lightweight armor with a painted dragon on one side and a roaring dire wolf on the other came alive in the heat of the battle. Aegon went in for a two-handed jabbed while Drogo slashed and hacked with great skill.

The sweet singing of steel cutting through the air-filled Aegon's ears as sweaty warm tendrils ran down both backs. Adrenaline forced their heart to pump faster as finally, the fight felt like it had been drawing on for ages. Both of their arms were growing heavy and their minds weary; they knew that if the battle took any longer then even a simple mistake could end them.

The heat slammed into them from all directions, the sand of the beach gritted between their teeth, steel dragon forged steel. Aegon thought that he might have the upper hand, but his body was exhausted between the long journey and running all the way here. He knew that sooner or later he would run out of energy and in that moment.

He would be dead, but the rage and all-consuming sorrow that he felt kept him going, he knew that the way back to the west would be bloody and filled with death. But it never occurred to him that some of the best knights in the west would be killed in such a manner.

Now he stood here fighting for not only the honor and freedom of his aunt. But it avenges someone that he loved like family, someone that the 14 flames and the old gods could not restore even if they were working to gather.

That thought alone was all that he needed, Aegon did a horizontal slash forcing a light gash to form on his chest. Drogo acted as if it was nothing as blood erupted from the cut bathing Aegon in a warm liquid and manic and crazed brown eyes suddenly started to calm. As if bleeding eased the horse lord when he was in battle.

Drogo lifted his hand over his head with all his might, but as it came crashing down on the Valyrian steel sword they watched as the crescent-shaped blade erupted. With a clattering smash, the sword exploded into thousands of shards. The magical prowess of the sword was truly too much for regular steel to handle. Sooner or later it would have broken and lucky for Aegon it was sooner.

Drogo examined the blade in utter disbelief there was nothing but a worn leather handle left telling them that he had once been holding a mighty blade that never was cut. Now he was sure to lose with stunning and startling speed Aegon darted out like a viper hell-bent on spreading his poison. A dangerous and arrogant smile formed on his face as blood lust rushed through Aegon’s veins burning his skin as he ducked low. 

Light on his feet he gave a sharp thrust watching as the elder man's legs gave out forcing him to his knees, there was hatred flooding his stare as he looked up at the pretty prince. He might have had the face of a god, but he had the skill of a monster. A devious twinkle formed in his eyes as Aegon pulled the sword from his gullet.

The minute the Dothraki saw the move they he knew that all was lost, Aegon was speaking in a guttural tongue, “You will die for your crimes, and as you go off to the next plain you can tell your ancestors that fire and blood are coming for all Dothraki who stands in our way.” Aegon spoke in a cruel voice.

Though Aegon was not satisfied until his sword cleaved through the tender yet meaty flesh of Drogo’s neck, gripping tightly to the dagger that was resting on his waist he thrust the dagger into the right eye listening to a wet pop as sickening screams filled the air. Aegon did not thrust the blade deep enough to kill him.

Instead, he gripped tightly to Blackfyre ripping back with a slow motion the loud ripping of muscle fibers filled the air like the scent of copper filled all their noses. Blood spilled from his wounds as his hand struggled to find which wound, he wanted to grip tightly to.

Aegon looked down at the man a sinister expression fell on his face as with a final blow his blade sliced through the middle of his skull and kept slicing through the bones until it hit his hip bone. At that point, the blade got stuck and Aegon was forced to rip the blade back. Dropping to the ground with an echoing thud.

Drogo was dead and who would be next? 


	12. House Martell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys tomorrow there will be no update I will be working on the second installment of the age of dragons

Oberyn I

The candle flickered in the night and the shadows danced along with the air as the dark cold and wet fell upon Oberyn’s face. The familiar stink of pig shit filled his nose, but he did not know that he was being watched from the shadows by the very man that controlled all and saw all. He had the realm's best interests at heart. At least that was what he told people but if he loved the realm would he keep trying to descend it into war. 

The air that came billowing through the window reeked something awful and even then, it was better than no air at all. Oberyn's backaches and his arms were numb from a day of training with his youngest daughters. His obsidian eyes were running along with reports from spies hidden in the east.

Sooner or later they would send Quentyn to the east and they needed to know what they were going to be walking into. Oberyn's mind was rushing as he read the cursive words about the young princess and prince were hidden away in Pentos at least that was what they said but it worried him. Would assassins be waiting in the wings to kill them and anyone that got in their way?

Oberyn was not aware of the dangers that persisted just outside the walls of Sunspear; they were not aware of the truth about the Targaryens not just yet but that did not matter. Not to the king he knew that the Martells would fight for a Targaryen king at least that way his line of thinking but the moment that they would find out the truth about Lyanna. Who would side with them?

No one knew but no one was willing to take the risk either, even now whispers were filling the air as assassins crept through the darkness making their way to Oberyn's room. Knowing that if he were to die then the other Martells would not be so old and would not dare act out. At the very least some of their nerves would die with Oberyn.

But Oberyn was loved by all and many thoughts that he should have been the one to lead Dorne but instead, that privilege was given to his brother despite his protest. A sneer threatened to pull at Oberyn's lips as he was thinking about something unpleasant. His eyes were scanning the paper once, then twice, then three times.

His mind couldn't understand the things that were fluttering off the page, one thick brown scroll had a smooth black cursive on it that said Daenerys was on an island in the summer isle hidden away in the forest where she was almost raped by Baratheon men. But at the same time, there was a letter stating that two silver hair Targaryens were spotted trying to get into the Black Wall at Volantis, so which one was the truth, and which one was a lie.

Taking in a heavy breath Oberyn exhaustion started to eat away at him as his fingers rubbed his temple like all this thinking was hurting his whole body. He took in a deep breath, he would retire for the night and start back up in the morning, slowly he began to rise from his seat as the chorus of popping filled the air.

His brows dipped and his eyelids grew heavy as he stumbled out of his private library before making his way down the hall. The soft slap of my shoes began to echo in the air as something ominous filled me.

Oberyn could feel eyes on him, his eyes filled with hate that burned holes into his back, he gripped tightly to a bone dagger that was resting in his belt under his shirt. His muscles began to tense as he slowed his steps. As the wind began to rise, he turned quickly but his dagger simply cut through the shadows as he turned around but found no one there.

He thought that there was someone or something following him after a few moments of peering into the dark he did not see anything. He started to move forward again shaking his head heavily like he was foolish and acting like a child. Scared of all the things that go bump in the night, there was this smug smile on his face as he shook his head heavily.

For a while, he was creeping in the dark, not making a sound when he heard a strange dripping sound and the soft feather steps of an assassin. A sneer pulled at Oberyn's face he knew that this time it was not some childish hallucination, it started to take the form of a person.

Oberyn could not see his face but he knew that he was here to kill him, dark glinting blue eyes were locked on him

“The kings send you his regards.” His rustic voice filled Oberyn's ears.

Confusion bubbled in Oberyn’s chest as a mystified shudder went down his spine, his body began to tense as his fingers traced his dagger. A murderous lust flooded his body it was not enough that Robert had his sister and her children killed but now they were trying to kill him

Oberyn move swiftly hate-filled his chest as he leered at the man that he was so ready to kill, the very man that was trying to get in his way

“Fuck your king.” A sneer pulled at Oberyn's murderous words.

The man was thick and muscular but also towering over the lean and fast Oberyn, hate brimming in his stare. A large man and a darker aura swallowed him as he lunged manic energy encasing his body.

Oberyn watched his sword raised high over his head, the burning hatred in his eyes, the cruel smile on his face. But what Oberyn lacked in size he made up with cunning and speed as he darted through the darkens ducking low so that the blade slammed against the ground instead of Oberyn.

With a sharp two-handed thrust, he slammed the blade straight into his heart a sickening smile pulling at his lips. He watched as the triangular tip pierced through the chest plate and out the other side.

“Piss ant,” Oberyn spoke in a ceiling voice.

Oberyn pulled the blade from his heart watching him drop down to the ground, blood pooling around his heart as his dog twitched with the last-minute death. The assassin's skin ripped apart easily as he loomed over me gasping for breath as the wet gurgling sound filled the air. Oberyn stood over the head of the man with a smug smile on his face as he grinned.

“I'm sure that you may want an explanation.” A smooth velvet-like voice filled the air as Oberyn was forced to look up from his thoughts.

There was this dangerous hate-filled ignorance filling the eyes of Oberyn as he looked up to see a bald man with dark eyes and an eastern accent filling his ears. He knew the voice belonged to the spider, the master of whispers.

“Don't tell me he is here to try and kill me as well” Oberyn thought to himself.

There was this smug smile on the face of the bald man. It almost made Oberyn laugh. If his thought was the case, then he would lose. Oberyn would not fall for his gimmicks. He would kill him if that were what it came down to. But Varys did not look like he came here for a fight, he folded his hand hiding them in the folds of the robe.

There was a pitying look on his eyes as he looked at the dead man clawing at his feet with his last dying breaths wishing that someone would save him, but he thought wrong. Instead, Varys spoke in a smooth voice as he looked at Oberyn confusion and doubt fluttering across his face.

“I'm sure that you would like to know why the king wants you dead, I'll give you a fairly good reason. Rhaegar Targaryen is alive and in the east.” Varys spoke in such a matter of fact voice.

Though there was a part of him that could barely form a coherent thought his whole world seemed to be shifting. There is a part of him that wished and hoped that Elia was alive and well with her children but he knew that was not true he saw her body and knew the truth whether the Lannisters wanted to admit it or not.

There was a sneer on his face as he gripped tightly to Varys fine silk hatred and power booming in his chest as his fingers ripped and closed at the smooth sleeves. Oberyn’s mind was blank and he could not think of anything but the white-hot fury he felt when he found out that his sister and her children were dead.

The grief that threatened to swallow him whole if nothing was done to the people that killed her began. Here this man stood claiming that not only was Rhaegar alive but because of that fact now his family was once more endangered because of him. When he spoke, his teeth were grinding against each other as bile and venoms flooded his voice as he leered at Varys.

“Rhaegar is dead” Oberyn spoke in a menacing voice.

Oberyn's fingers were curling over the smooth leather handle of the weapon as he fought the sneer that was threatening to work its way over every rational part of his brain screamed do not trust him. He wanted to kill him but there was another part that needed vengeance, one that was not going to go away.

His mind raced as Varys watched the way that Oberyn was mulling over the thoughts that were appearing in his mind only then did he speak.

“He never died on that battlefield; it was someone that you knew well, your uncle and white sword Lewyn Martell. He wore the prince's armor at the behest of Arthur, he was only supposed to appear on the battlefield then leave but he got killed and Ser Barristan captured. All the while Rhaegar lived in seclusion on an island with his wife Lyanna and their three children, Aegon, Enyo, and Meleys.” Varys spoke.

He knew that he might be giving away too many details but he knew that this was what he needed to get Oberyn on his side he had once tried to rally Viserys side now that he knew the truth would he ever truly side with a Targaryen ever again.

Oberyn looks over Varys was interested in what he might have to say about all of this, he let out a heavy breath like the last thing that he wanted was to side with a liar and a monster but he had no choice not at the moment not if he wanted to know all that he could.

Silently they both walked down the hall as neither of them said a word instead they walked in the darkness refusing to speak for a long while. Finally, when Oberyn could not take the silence or the doubt that was working its way into his mind and forcing his heart to boom in his chest.

“Why are you telling me this?” Oberyn questioned.

He wouldn't be lying if he said that he didn't understand why this was happening after all he knew that his brother might decide to side with Rhaegar even after all that happened to him and their family. But if Rhaegar had stayed faithful to his wife then that war would never have happened god forbid.

Doran would night see it that way and there was no other choice not after they were all but ready to marry off two Martells off to the Targaryens once more.

“There is a boy named Aegon Blackfyre, we tricked Jon into thinking that he is the dead prince. He thinks that he is the last Targaryen other than the siblings. Side with him and get your vengeance not only from the Baratheon who killed your sister and her children. But also, from the Targaryens who caused the whole situation when Rhaegar took what was not his. He caused the rebellion and Robert finished it. Siding with the Blackfyre” Varys spoke in a cool voice.

There was a dangerous aura around him as Oberyn seriously thought about it, but he would have to talk with his brother then he would have to meet this boy.

“I will talk to my brother, but I will not call this boy Aegon, what is his real name?” Oberyn spoke in a dangerous voice.

The moment he spoke Varys knew that while he might have gotten Oberyn he still had to win over Doran before he could move forward but that should be the easier part. Right now, he had to worry about the Stag King's movements in the North.

“His true name is Maegor Blackfyre,” Varys spoke in a final voice.

As he spoke Oberyn thought about the Stag King. There was more going on than any of them knew but with all the moving pieces it made Oberyn wonder what the king’s next move would be?


	13. I Should Kill You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more chapter after this

Viserys I

“I am Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, rightful heir to the throne, you killed a dear friend, took my aunt hostage, and thought that you could get away with it. You will suffer for your crimes.” Aegon spoke in two separate languages.

Surely Viserys did not understand the savage tongue of the Dothraki because his position was clear the moment that he stated his name. Viserys knew that the only way he was going to hold onto his throne was if Aegon died. He was the king's only male heir as far as anyone knew. Which meant that he was the one standing in his way.

Viserys turned to look at his sister and he was shocked to find that not only was she leaning forward hoping that Aegon would kill the man with the only army that could win the throne for him but that she knew this boy existed. It was as if she knew who he was even before he said his name.

Viserys had been tossing and turning all night trying to figure out how Gerold escaped from his cell, how he managed to get so close to the exit that would lead to the courtyard, and finally, it made sense. Dany who else could have stolen the key of the sleeping guard and brought it down to him. If it had been Rhaegar like his paranoia suggested, then he would not have waited until today to show up.

Hatred and fury flooded his chest. He wanted nothing more than to hit her and tell her that this was all her fault that she woke the dragon and now she was going to pay for it but his eyes like many of the others were locked on the snow-white hair with bright indigo eyes.

Aegon assumed his fighting stance and Drogo just laughed, he didn't see the boy as a threat, not he was lean and lithe which meant that he was fast but Drogo never lost a fight and he would be able to win.

There was some hope that Drogo might win but Viserys knew that Valyrian steel can cut through pretty much anything. They can even leave permanent marks on the scales of Dragons. Viserys knew that even if the young prince was not physically skilled the magical sword helped them greatly. His tongue felt clumsy in his mouth; he wanted to scream curse, but he forced himself to keep composure.

He knew that Drogo killed Gerold and he was the one that told him that Gerold had tried to steal his bride once before. The moment that they notice that he is gone, Varys sends Drogo and his men to the tunnels with the help of Illyrio; they manage to get there before Gerold could muck up all their plans.

Once the prince knew that he was the one that had sent him to the dungeon that he was the one that had him killed then he knew that he would not last long. Only his Targaryen blood might save them and that might not mean much when they find out all the times that he might have treated his sister as less than human.

Drogo and Aegon began to talk in that same savage language but Viserys paid them no mind, instead, his eyes were locked on Illyrio who had this look on his face. A look that screamed he knew about this hit the whole time.

“Is there something that you want to share with Illyrio?” Viserys whispered his question.

Doubt worked its way into every corner of Viserys mind and heart as he looked to the overweight fat man in the hopes of getting some answer. The heat of the east blared against his skin as he sweats profusely but it was not because of the heat but because of the terror that was beginning to well in the back of his throat.

Anxiety began to flood in his chest as his mind whirled; did he know this the whole time? Was he playing him? Was Daenerys, right? Was he just using him? Confusion and worry ate away at his already mad mind as he turned back to look at Aegon. He had a stony face as the Dothraki burst out into laughter as a right red blush flashed across his face.

Aegon stood his ground flashing Viserys a disgusted look like he knew something that the rest of them did not. That he knew what Viserys had been planning this whole time and he would be next to feel the wrath of the dragon prince.

Dothraki began to circle him, a murderer looking filling their dark obsidian and chocolate brown eyes. All of them yelling taunts and jeers as they circled Aegon like hungry dogs. Viserys bounced on the balls of his feet happy to see that his so-called nephew would get what was coming to him for trying to steal his sister and his throne.

Drogo pulled his silver arkah form the horse leather holster on his hip, he was speaking in his native tongue as he leered at the young prince. Tipping his head up so that his nose was pointing down on the young prince.

Drogo oiled black hair rippled down his back as he threw his hair back a smug smile on his face as the soft ringing of bells filled the air. He shoved his arkah at Aegon but made no move to attack him, there was a part of him that looked almost amused when Aegon refused to flinch.

As the two of them conversed Illyrio spoke in a low voice as if he took this moment to speak.

“No, my prince I am as shocked as you, we had heard rumors of silver hair boys running around but our first thought was Blackfyre not the true heir to the throne. They are not you, my prince, even if what he says is true your father declared you the heir not your brother who betrayed him for that Northern whore.” Illyrio spoke in a convincing voice.

Viserys looked at him only for a moment before he turned back to the fight watching the way that the Dothraki were just about to go in for the kill. Their gleaming silver metallic crescent blades, some held whips all had a crazed hunger in their eyes. Viserys knew them to be the blood riders of the Kahl.

Sharp pops and whizz filled the air with pinpoint accuracy gleaming rigid silver tips pierce through one man's throat watching his mocha skin beginning to pale as wooden shafts broke off into the throat of the first Dothraki man.

Viserys had to bite down hard on his lips to keep a surprised squeak from leaving his lips as Viserys refused the urge to jump in utter terror. His eyes were scanning the horizon until he noticed a woman walking over to them. A metallic bow resting in her hands as she plucked at the string long nimble finger plucked the string two more times.

She had well-toned strong arms and light golden skin color from her exposure to the eastern sun, her thick brown curls were rippling down her back as she was dressed in boiled leather. A dangerous look formed in her smoke gray eyes as her high cheekbones and gentle features twisted into a sneer gave it away for Viserys that she was high born.

But it was only after Ser Jorah let out a shocked gasp of recognition that he knew who this girl was, Lyanna Stark. She was slim of a frame, but you could not tell that underneath the boiled leather.

Another two arrows slammed into the chest of the last two men all the while she spoke in the same savage tongue though it was broken and Viserys could tell that she was not adapted to speaking the language like her son was.

Viserys could not understand it, sure he told his sister that Rhaegar never raped Lyanna, but he never thought that they would have been married to the very man that led their family’s downfall.

The moment that he saw her he hated her but he had no choice but to stand there and watch the battle unfold, Viserys noticed that there was a smug air about the women as she gave the Dothraki a taunting smile. Indigo eyes were locked on obsidian and both had a silent battle of wills. Refusing to break the silence.

An animal ferocity flooded them both as a booming heat slammed against them as a rising ocean breeze rippled through midnight black and silver hair rippled in the air. Pivoting sharply on Aegon’s right foot forward but Drogo was just as fast as Aegon was and there was no stopping them they would keep fighting until one of them was dead and Aegon was determined to make sure that was Drogo.

Aegon did my best to kill him quickly but found it more than a little difficult, Aegon was splashing upwards while a creatine moon-shaped blade came rushing downwards. Sparks of orange and yellow flew as a soft clang filled the air.

Aegon spun sharply on his heels dancing out of the way as his lightweight armor with a painted dragon on one side and a roaring dire wolf on the other came alive in the heat of the battle. Aegon went in for a two-handed jabbed while Drogo slashed and hacked with great skill.

Viserys knew that this was a lost cause that sooner or later Drogo’s sword would shatter ; he did not know much about fighting but Viserys could see the small crack that started to form in the blade.

He took a step back when he thought that no one was looking. He thought that he could escape all of this, take the dragon eggs, and buy himself away. The golden company was in Volantis; he could get them if he had the eggs.

“Move and I sever your spine you will be a cripple” A murderous and low voice husky and thick Valyrian flowed from her lips.

There was cold biting pain blooming in the small of his back as a hand gripped his shoulder as he struggled to turn around. Craning his neck just in the right way he could see the women that had smoke-gray eyes, and an unearthly beauty about her.

Silver curls with snow-white highlights rippled down her back in loose curls. Resting in her hand was a sword that Viserys knew from the stories that his mother once told him.

Dark Sister the short blade that had once belonged to Visenya, the hilt and pommel were shaped in flames a golden color that shimmered in the light. The girl that wielded the blade had smoke gray eyes like the women with the bow. There was a murderous sneer on her face as she pointed the blade just a bit further into his skin.

He could feel a warmth trickle running down his back as the ruby in the hilt began to play with power as she spoke in a low voice.

“Go ahead, give me a reason to kill you.” Even as she spoke Viserys knew that she had to be a Targaryen; her hair and facial features alone made her a Targaryen. But her willingness to inflict violence sold him on that fact.

He was forced to watch the battle unfold as he turned to his right to see Illyrio; he was just as shocked, and he could not move. He sat there frozen not sure what to do but not willing to let himself die to protect the price that he had only known for a year. A prince that had not been the kindest to the fast man. So, both watched as the dragon prince and the horse lord clashed.

The sweet singing of steel cutting through the air-filled Aegon's ears as sweaty warm tendrils ran down both backs. Adrenaline forced their heart to pump faster as finally, the fight felt like it had been drawing on for ages. Both of their arms were growing heavy and their minds weary; they knew that if the battle took any longer then even a simple mistake could end them.

The heat slammed into them from all directions, the sand of the beach gritted between their teeth, steel against dragon forged steel. The girl leaned forward pressing her ample breast against Viserys back, he forced himself to stifle a moan at the feeling of her voluptuous form against his back. His body began to tense, the girl was younger than Daenerys. He could tell that much from her face, but she had a womanly figure.

Aegon did a horizontal slash forcing a light gash to form on his chest. Drogo acted as if it was nothing as blood erupted from the cut bathing Aegon in a warm liquid and manic and crazed brown eyes suddenly started to calm.

As if bleeding eased the horse lord when he was in battle. But Viserys knew that wound would slow him down and sooner or later that would mean that he would either bleed out or he would slow down enough that Aegon would sooner or later kill him.

Drogo lifted his hand over his head with all his might, but as it came crashing down on the Valyrian steel sword they watched as the crescent-shaped blade erupted. With a clattering smash, the sword exploded into thousands of shards. The magical prowess of the sword was truly too much for regular steel to handle. Sooner or later it would have broken and lucky for Aegon it was sooner.

The princess laughed as the others whispered in utter disbelief as if there was no way that this was happening that their Khal could never lose. Viserys shifted his stare to the other people and watched their own eyes widen as their obsidian eyes were filled with questioning stares as if they were seeing witchcraft in action. Surely that is the only way that a boy could beat a man 10 years his senior.

Drogo examined the blade in utter disbelief there was nothing but a worn leather handle left telling them that he had once been holding a mighty blade that never was cut. Now he was sure to lose with stunning and startling speed Aegon darted out like a viper hell-bent on spreading his poison. A dangerous and arrogant smile formed on his face as blood lust rushed through Aegon’s veins burning his skin as he ducked low. 

Light on his feet he gave a sharp thrust watching as the elder man's legs gave out forcing him to his knees, there was hatred flooding his stare as he looked up at the pretty prince. He might have had the face of a god, but he had the skill of a monster. A devious twinkle formed in his eyes as Aegon pulled the sword from his gullet.

The minute he saw it he knew that all was lost, hate flooded Viserys eyes as he knew that whatever hope that he had for winning over the Dothraki army was over. They would get blamed for this; it would be if Drogo did not agree to marry a virgin whore then he would not have died. But his blood riders were killed along with him. So, who was left to rule over the horde?

Aegon spoke in a guttural tongue, Viserys did not know what he was saying but he could hear the vindictive joy that flooded his voice.

He was not satisfied until his sword cleaved through the tender yet meaty flesh of Drogo’s neck, gripping tightly to the dagger that was resting on his waist he thrust the dagger into the right eye listening to a wet pop as sickening screams filled the air. Aegon did not thrust the blade deep enough to kill him.

Instead, he gripped tightly to Blackfyre ripping back with a slow-motion the loud ripping of muscle fibers filled the air like the scent of copper filled all their nose. Blood spilled from his wounds as his hand struggled to find which wound, he wanted to grip tightly to.

Aegon looked down at the man and a sinister expression fell on his face as with a final blow his blade sliced through the middle of his skull and kept slicing through the bones until it hit his hip bone. At that point, the blade got stuck and Aegon was forced to rip the blade back. Dropping to the ground with echoing thought.

The whole clearing was silent but Viserys noticed someone moving across the horizon next to the sweet lady Lyanna. He had silver hair shimmering like liquid molten silver, his hair pulled into a tight braid. He wore a black scale enameled armor with a crimson dragon printed on his chest plate.

Viserys' breath caught in his throat; he knew that man was Rhaegar even if he did not speak; his bright indigo eyes were a giveaway. They used to be kind and gentle but now they are filled with grief as darkness fell on his face when he noticed the girl at Viserys' back.

Daenerys eyes locked on him the same way that Viserys did but there was no look of recognition on his face like with Viserys she didn't know who he was at first, but his eyes and hair meant that he had to be Rhaegar. Her head snapped up as Viserys heart stilled as one more man walked out on the horizon only this man had a body in his hands that he knew that it had to be Gerold.

The corpse was headless, there was a darkness that fluttered in Viserys heart he knew that if Ser Jorah or Dany said anything, he would end up just like the dead Drogo. Rhaegar moved into the middle of the compound as he spoke.

“I suppose we should all talk.” Rhaegar shook his head heavily

He made his way over to the high dais to Daenerys with a small smile on his face as he spoke in a carious voice.

“Daenerys I know that I wasn't there for you as a child but my family and I are here now, we heard about your marriage and knew that we could not just let you be condemned to a life of assertiveness. You are a prince and well above their station. You are the daughter of a dragon whether he was made or not this is not your fate.” Rhaegar spoke in a sickly-sweet voice.

The moment that he spoke something warm was unlocked in Daenerys chest for the first time in her life she had a brother that loved her not for what she could do for him but because he just wanted to love her.

Her eyes flutter over to Aegon who was covered in blood she thought that the sight would revolt her but in fact, she wanted him more at this moment than when he had the gallant and sweet smile on his face.

He walked over to her and the Dothraki did not think to stop him. He had his own greatsword resting on his back as he stalked over to the sweet princess. Viserys fought against the hold of the Targaryen and Stark princess.

She slammed her foot into the back of the young prince's back right knee. He was forced to fall to the ground on both of his knees as a burning arching tendril of pain snapped at his muscles.

He let out a sharp gasp of pain forcing all eyes on them as he ruined this sweet moment that was trying to be created by Daenerys and Rhaegar. Aegon on the other hand had a murderous indigo stare as he spoke.

“Enyo let him go. I have a question for him,” Aegon spoke in a cold voice as he stalked forward.

He walked like a predator, his muscle tense and ready to pounce at any moment he had a beat like swagger like a wolf going in for the kill. His eyes had fanning red flames, as he slowly began to place the blood-red blade back in its scabbard.

The princess Enyo let him go as she pulled her blade from his neck instead of stalking over Ser Arthur’s whose violet eyes were locked on the man that he loved like a brother. A deep sorrow walked its way into his eyes as he stared at the dead headless corpse. The princess threw her silver and white curls back over her shoulder as she stalked over the knight.

All the while Viserys heart pounded in his chest as fear forced his palms to turn clammy and awkward as his jaw shook with a terror that he could not speak about. For a split second, he wondered if this was how Daenerys felt every time that he appeared vengeance and madness in his eyes as he struck her down.

The bright blue sky almost seemed to be taunting him; there wasn't a single cloud in the sky so the heat slammed against his body unbidden as he struggled to his knees before digging his fingers into the dirt in the hopes of pushing himself off of the ground. But instead of standing up, Aegon pushed him back down to the ground with a sneer on his face.

“We sent Gerold here to see if you were here to make sure that it was not another ploy made by Robert to catch us. He sent us a letter saying that he found her and that you were planning on selling off Dany to the Dothraki like she was a prize horse. He came here to tell you that you didn't need to do that yet he ends up dead and killed by the Khal but that does not make sense on how he got into the dungeon. How did he get there?” Aegon spoke in an edgy voice.

Murderous hate flooded his stare that forced a shudder to rush down his spine as he looked over to Rhaegar he wasn't paying Viserys the least bit of attention as he spoke softly and gently to Daenerys knowing that she had been through a lot.

Enyo stared at her uncle in utter disgust as Lyanna stalked over to them, her bow forgotten in her left hand as she leered at the very man below her. Though Lyanna saw him more like a worm than a dragon let alone a man. She wanted to know as badly as her son, it was Gerold that got her away safely when she was pregnant with Jon.

It was Gerold that protected her when she was pregnant with the twins and the man at the market noticed her and tried to kill her. If not for Gerold then they would have all been dead and now he was the one that was dead. Probably weak from lack of food and no weapon to defend himself with.

Viserys did not know what was going on in either of their heads but he knew that nothing he said would have eased their fury so he would say nothing as he struggled to breathe when Ser Jorah spoke.

“Queen Lyanna my name is Ser Jorah Mormont. Your little brother Benjen married my cousin Dacey. We are family by law. It is an honor to meet you. We all thought that you were dead, which I'm sure was your intention.” Ser Jorah got down to one knee.

He bent his head leaving Viserys both shocked and happy, this meant that they would lose sight of Gerold if just for a moment and that moment was all that I needed to make up some lie that would make them happy.

Lyanna looked shocked as she looked over to Ser Jorah, her bright smoke gray eyes meeting his icy blue as she walked over to him carrying herself like a true warrior queen. She smiled gently at the man as she spoke in a wistful tone.

“I wished that I didn't have to do that, but Robert fury knows no bounds and Ned is too honorable for his good. He would not care if we were in love or not. I made a vow to marry Robert and to him, that meant that I had to keep it. But it is good to hear that Benjen is alright and lord of Bear Island. While I want to talk about him, I need to know what happened to Ser Gerold.” Lyanna smoked in a sweet voice as she urged Mormont to his feet.

Viserys sneered as he looked ready to say that it was Ser Jorah that sent him to the dungeon in the hopes of escaping justice. But Dany walked over to him with proud long strides and hated filling every inch of her eyes as she was in reaching distance from him. Resting beside the prince that was covered in blood, not the least bit bothered by the stench of shit and death almost like she was used to the sight.

_ “Don't tell me that she saw them kill Gerold.” Viserys thought _ .

Daenerys sneered at him fury filling her eyes as black and red flames were filling her own eyes as her hands shook with fury. Her silver hair rippled down her back giving her this strange glow as she spoke in a bitter and murderous voice. 

“He sent him to the dungeons and when Ser Gerold tried to save me from this marriage and Viserys now. That was when Drogo found us walking through the tunnels to save me from Viserys rage Gerold shoved me into a hidden passageway. I had to watch as they cut off his head.” Daenerys' eyes were teary and filled with terror.

The minute that she spoke something in Viserys' snapped and he launched at her, slapping her across the face until her pale skin turned bright red.

“Now you have woken the dragon….” He was screaming in a shrill voice.

Knocking her to the ground Dany thought that Viserys was going to kill her but then there was a weight against Viserys he was knocked to the ground as a sharp pressure started to build in his face. There was a sharp snap of his nose as blinding pain started to form behind his face as a wet gurgle filled the air like a wet copper liquid splashed against his face.

Aegon could feel all the muscle in his right arm twisting and turning as he let his fist fly. He could hear this full crack erupting in the air along with a light groan. Aegon straddles him holding Viserys knees to his chest so that there was no way that he was getting back up. Terror flashed in Viserys eyes as Aegon spoke in pure fury.

“You killed Gerold as much as Drogo did, he has saved our family more than a few times, and yet you still killed him. Now you put your hands on your sister, if any man struck one of my sisters, I would have taken their hands then their lives.” Aegon roared with hate.

Anger burned too bright within Aegon, it fueled him with a superhuman strength that he did not know was possibly flooded every inch of his body. He let his left fist slam against his face this time a sharp pop filled the air as slick blood tainted the golden-brown hands of Aegon.

Aegon could feel this sick sense of gratification filling him as he kept punching repeatedly till his face pale and crimson blood flooded from his face. His face began to swell as his right and left eyes both began to close. But Aegon could see the blood that had been pooling in his eyes before they started to swell.

Only then did Aegon stop as he rose from the broken form of Viserys instantly going to the side of princess Daenerys. Viserys could barely see but he saw Aegon speaking to his sister as Princess Enyo walked over to them slamming her foot into his face and whispering a few words.

“Scum” It was all that she had said but her voice was thick with emotions. 


	14. They Are Not To Be Trusted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one of the day

Enyo I

_ 6 Years Ago _

_ The heat bored down on her, the sun was bright and baking her skin turning her once pale and pristine skin a dark golden-brown color. The water was sparkling from the sunlight baking in the warmth but was cool to the touch each time that her fingers traced along the surface the cool blue water created ripples. The water was so inviting that she could not help but want to go in. _

_ Large thick brown trunks erupted from the ground forming mighty trees with thick green canopy leaves that protected her from any prying eyes. Really what would be the harm if she spent a few moments in the cool water. _

_ The scent of her black paste covered hair baking in the heat disgusted her, she hated the thought that she was a princess, but she could not tell anyone. She could not live in a castle and she could not even meet the rest of her family. Her mother and father had sat her down not too long ago and told her the truth. Now it was all that she could think about, as she started to make her way through the forest, she ended up here. _

_ Now the bright blue water cleared as the sky stared back at her inviting her to step in, standing up she let her riding close slip from her shoulder as she looked back to see a silver filly whose brown eyes were glaring at the horse as if she knew that the princess should not be doing this. _

_ “Oh, don't look at me like that, it's hotter than 14 hells out here,” Enyo spoke in a cool voice as she began to dive into the water. _

_ The icy cool water splashed against her skin as the water woke up all her senses shaking away the haze from being exposed by the eastern heat. Her eyes seemed to voice as she dived deep in the water letting her whole body be enveloped in the coolness. The moment that he dived into the water and came back up the lights became brighter the heat was not so hot and for a moment she was at utter peace. _

_ She did not care that all around her there was black paste spilling from her hair as only her silver and white curls remained. She splashed about the water for hours and it might have gone on longer if not for the sharp snapping of twigs. _

_ She peered into the forest as a second sharp pop filled the air as panic started to seize her, she was trying to train with her elder brother but her father also said no he wanted to protect her. Now she was beating herself up for not bringing a knife, she slowly and carefully made her way out of the water hoping that she would not make so much noise. _

_ By the time that she got to the land the muck and dirt was spilling in between her toes as she rushed to graph a slick and she felt this primal stare locked on her. _

_ “What do we have here, Targaryen?” A husky taunting voice filled the air. _

_ Another voice raspy was chuckled as Enyo snapped her head up to see two men one had a haggard scar on his face and a large camel hump nose with black coarse hair on his chest and arms. His dark blue eyes were crazed as he grinned at the little princess. _

_ While the next man was thin and had a gaunt face with bright brown eyes that reminded her of shit, she knew by the lustful hungry in their eyes that they were not going to simply leave her in peace. Her fingers were rushing to the silks as she struggled to run away but her legs were shaking with terror. _

_ The men were looking as they were ripping at her silks as they laughed and japed as one spoke in that raspy voice of his. _

_ “I think I'll play with the little princess before I send you to Robert, I'll make a woman out of you.” As the skinny man taunted the larger man was fondling her boobs. _

_ Gripping and needing at her ass with hairy knuckles, terror flashing across her face as she screams at the top of her lungs, clawing and searching at them until her fingers were raw and she drew blood. But both men were just chuckling as they tried to pry their legs open and held down her hands. _

_ But they never got the chance, a warm liquid slapped against Enyo’s skin as a film of red fell over her eyes. At first, she thought that she was hallucinating. But then she realized that it was the blood of the large fat man that was struggling to pry her legs open. Rhaegar was standing over her with a sneer formed on his face and his eyes crazed with blood lust as he hacked and slashed at the gaunt man till only popped organs was all that was left. _

_ Current time. _

Watching her brother ferocity brought her back to that moment if not for the fact that she had taken that silver filly and her family would have never known that she had left. Now she looked at Daenerys, her eyes gentle and kind as she stared into the bright indigo eyes of her elder brother. A sense of relief washed over the princess glad that she was safe even if she would not let herself show it.

Viserys was a true monster what kind of brother would know let another man rape his sister all for an army. Enyo looked down to look at her uncle. A flash of disgust flooded her body as she looked down at his battered and bruised face.

Targaryens were supposed to be pretty but he was ugly inside and out and now it could be seen. His right eyes were swallowed and full of bright blue welts formed on his right eyes. While his left eye was swollen but not as bad and she could see the blood that was creeping across the fleshy surface of her eye.

Her snow-white hair rippled down her face as she crouched down her hair tickling the bathed and pale face of Viserys. Blood rippled down his face from the broken nose and was snapped to the right of his face.

His thin and gaunt form stared back at the prince as she poked at his finger looking to see the pale skin on his fingertips. There was no callous skin on his fingertips yet there was a sword resting on his belt which meant that he was no true warrior just a pretended.

A sneer pulled at her lips as she heard the soft voice of Aegon, “I'm sorry that you had to see that princess.” His voice was gentle and sweet.

Enyo could not help but smile as she thought about the way that he spoke to her after the incident, it was good to know at least one of them had a kind and loving brother. Enyo thought that Daenerys might cry or say that this was the most awful thing that she saw but to Enyo’s surprise her voice was steady and firm.

“Don’t worry about it. I have seen worse and he got everything that he deserved. Ser Gerold was kind to me and told me about you guys. He said that you would come and set all this right and deal with Viserys. When I told him that you wouldn't get here in time he was destined to save me, if not for me he would have been resting in that cell but he would have done so while still being alive. Viserys is a monster but he is our family despite what we might think and want.” Daenerys spoke in a cold voice.

Enyo snapped her head back expecting to see a panic expression on her face as her check was bright red but instead, there was this cold darkness that fluttered across her face as she sneered at her collapsed brother. His dangerous moans and gasping pained breath were falling on deaf ears. The silver hair princess gave Enyo a gentle smile.

“It's nice to meet you princess,” Daenerys spoke in a warm voice.

Her dark violet eyes sparkling in the light as she held out a smooth hand only there were soft calluses on them as Enyo gave her a startled look.

“Nice to meet you as well, you seemed to be the only thing that Aegon thinks about as of late, may I ask do you practice the Martial arts?” Confusion echoed in Enyo’s words.

Aegon let out a clipped laugh but his bright red face told Daenerys all that she needed to know about the princess and the young prince. Enyo was two years younger than the princess, but she was far more voluptuous. Where Daenerys breasts were small and budding, Enyo’s were ample and threatening to slip out of her lightweight armor.

Where Daenerys is petite and fair skin, Enyo has golden skin from long term exposure to the sun and a curvy figure. While Enyo had a war goddess beauty to her, Daenerys was sweet and supple like a goddess of love. Both were stunning in their beauty and Aegon would have a hard time choosing between the two of them. That is if he chose at all his namesake had two wives why shouldn't he?

There was a spark of understanding that passed between Daenerys and Enyo as she looked at her fingertips as she ran her fingers along with the smooth callus that Enyo noticed.

“I used to train with a dagger with Ser Darry. He was worried that Viserys would cause me harm. He was right of course but the older man died before we could ever finish. I tried to keep up my training through the years but Viserys caught me about a year ago and since then my skills have long since dulled. The only thing that reminds me of my skills are these calluses and even they begin to soften.” Daenerys spoke with sorrow in her eyes.

Enyo had a newfound respect for the young princess and a newfound hatred for the prince that rested at her feet. She wanted to start hitting him all over again, of course, he could not have his sister knowing how to defend herself. Or else she would be the one that was fighting back, and he just could not have that.

“Not that I mind the catching up, but could we do this when we are not surrounded by Dothraki.” A husky and Dornish lace voice filled the air.

Enyo knew who it was without having to look at the handsome and stoic Ser Arthur, she shifted her stare to the older man and gave him a warm teasing smile.

“You would think that with all the lessons that you attended with us that you would know the Dothraki respect straight. There Khal was defeated in single combat and the mother took out his blood riders that would make the Khalasar Aegon’s.” Enyo spoke in a slot smug voice.

Though she could see the doubt that was fluttering across not only Arthur's eyes but the eyes of Rhaegar and Lyanna. They did not like the idea of Aegon in charge of 10,000 Dothraki screamers; it did little to lessen their anxiety. They could not simply march into Volantis with the Dothraki horde at their back.

Robert would know where they were the moment that they made a move but now there was a horde of 10,000 strong. But that did not mean that they should not go to Volantis. Jon would be there and with them the golden company that he was once a part of. But instead of sneaking in, they would be seen for hundreds of miles away.

But just as Arthur moved just a bit closer to Aegon, he spoke in a cold voice Dothraki spilling from his lips with ease.

“Your Khal killed a loved one and one of my blood riders, if you want to follow your Khal into the grave then so be it. I would happily meet you in battle. Or you can bend the knee.” Aegon spoke in a cold voice.

Enyo could not help but smile as she stared at her brother, the proud and strong man that was kind and gentle. She could see the pity that was welling in his eyes as he noticed the slaves that were gripping at their collars as they hoped that this new Khal might save them.

There were whispers in a low guttural voice as their foreign language filled the princess ears like it was commonplace. She could speak their language as well as the common tongue, and High Valyrian, she can speak bastard Valyrian as well but that was it. She was not skilled with the gift of the tongue like her elder brother and younger sister.

But even she knew that they would bend the knee while she was language ignorant the same could not be said about their culture and laws. Rhaegar was moving at the back of Aegon looking at the almond eyes shaped men and women who slowly began to bend to one knee.

Rhaegar on the other hand looked over to Aegon speaking in a cool voice his high Valyrian pooling off his lips so that only his children and family members could understand.

“For now, we should return to the manse and have a conversation with Illyrio, we can burn the dead Dusk. Meleys and Ser Darry and Ser Whent should be there waiting for us.” Rhaegar spoke in a cool voice.

Aegon nodded his head ready to leave but Daenerys put a gentle hand on his shoulder stopping his movements and the moment that he did the men looked like they were ready to attack her. But by law now that the Khal was dead Daenerys was Aegon’s Khalessi. Her violet eyes were gentle as she spoke a loving smile pulled at her lips as an indebted look fell on her face.

“The Khal and his blood riders need to be burned as well with their horse, if you don’t respect their custom of life as well as a battle you will lose them.” Daenerys' voice was sly and sweet.

Enyo knew that she was right, and she knew that Daenerys would balance out both their rash and impulsive personality with her careful and reserved attitude. The moment she spoke they all seemed to listen to her, their eyes shifting as they thought about the dead Khal that killed their dead family member and friend.

They would not want to give the proper rights to a man that would not even do the same for someone that they love. But they knew that with a revolt coming in the seven kingdoms that none of them could be picky about who they had killed for them.

After a long moment, he spoke in a cool voice, “Build a burial pyre for the Khal and his blood riders we will send them off at Dusk. Build a separate pyre for the old Knight we will send them both off.”

Aegon spoke and they followed the order not thinking twice about it as they walked off. Illyrio was watching with confusion and doubt wormed its way into his mind. How would he plan for this, 10,000 Dothraki screamers if they got their hands on the golden company then Maegor would not stand a chance he had to act and fast?

* * *

Illyrio I

Illyrio’s heart pounded loudly in his chest as he looked over to a second Targaryen girl only this one had thick brown curls that were rippling down her back as her bright indigo eyes were locked on Daenerys there was a sweet and gentle smile on her face as she courtesies as if she was meeting great lords. She was polite with high cheekbones and a slim nose; she has a slim form and budding breasts.

She looked like her twin sister in every way but her eyes and body type, as well as her clothes. Where Enyo was wearing lightweight armor, she was wearing a dazzling blue gown with golden lace trim along her neckline and waist. She was gorgeous in every way her thin dainty arms showed that she did not work out at all.

“Princess Daenerys it is nice to meet you.” Her cordial voice shocked the young princess as Daenerys deep violet eyes were gentle and loving

A warm smile pulled at her lips as she gripped tightly to princess Meleys hands running her thumbs lovingly on the top of her palms as a warm dazzling grin threatened to blind all the men around them.

“Please call me Dany. It's genuinely nice to meet you, Meleys, it's just too bad that it was under this circumstance.” Daenerys' voice grew with sorrow as she thought about the dead knight.

There was a grief that seemed to hang in the air as Rhaegar and Arthur were dragging Viserys into the manse his face battered and bruised while the prince and princess of Ebon head were resting in the back joking and laughing with easy smiles on their face both were covered in blood and ready for a bath.

Lyanna on the other hand was nowhere to be seen. At least that was what Illyrio saw but he felt something sharp at his back it felt like a small sharp metallic triangular tip arrow. Hot breath that smelled like cinnamon ghosting against his skin as thick brown curls tickled at the back of his neck.

“I don’t know what game you are playing and I don’t care, if my children were injured in any of your schemes then you will drown in your blood. When you play the game of thrones you win, or you die. I will not let my children die.” Menacing and edge Lyanna voice ripped through Illyrio.

He was frozen in place, not sure of what to say let alone what to think, her voice was serious and murderous, he knew that this was not some idle threat made by a perfume lord but by a wolf doing what she needs to, to protect her pups.

“Mother there you are” Meleys spoke in a high-pitched voice.

Lyanna smiled gently at her daughter as with a sure and quick hand she placed the arrow back in her quiver as it had never left.

“I was having a nice chat with Illyrio. I'm glad to see that you were all right with Ser Darry and Ser Whent.” There was a rapid change in Lyanna’s attitude as she gave her daughter a loving smile.

Turning her attention to Daenerys as she grinned at the young girl, love filling her eyes as she spoke in a sweet voice.

“Dany it is nice to meet you. I wanted to apologize for how my and my husband's actions were what led to a cause of you living your life on a run. I am truly apologizing for our thoughtless actions.” The Queen prostrated herself before the young princess.

Illyrio did not understand how she could be so cool and collected downright murderous with him but apologetic with the children. There was a darkness that fluttered across her face as she thought about the rebellion that was based on a lie, a rebellion that might not have happened if she just told her family the truth.

Illyrio was sure that the truth about the war haunted her up until this moment, Dany on the other hand had a smile on her face as she spoke in a loving voice.

“It’s okay we all made it through with minimal scarring, and there is no way of knowing if even if you did handle this differently that it would change anything, if Robert didn’t start that rebellion someone would have.” Her voice was sweet and understanding.

Everyone knew that what Day was saying was the truth, Afterall Areys was a mad man, and if this rebellion did not happen another one would have happened sooner or later. That much was true but even then, it did not make it any easier to understand or sallow.

Illyrio took this time to break up the tensioned filled air.

“My servants will show you to the room, there are baths already drawn for both the prince and princess. A farewell feast will be held for the memory of Ser Gerold, until then please excuse me.” Illyrio bowed respectfully before sticking out into the shadows.

His mind was racing and plans had changed, he had to get to Volantis and get there before they sent the knights to find Jon and the golden company. He knew that the moment that happened then they would be equal in might for the moment.

They had to be ready once they got the golden company, with John's help he would curry favor with some of the Stormlands. If they could get there before the true Targaryen, then they would get more allies they could win. They will have Dorne, but they must move quickly.

Illyrio's fat feet moved with starling speed as he made his way down the hall light-footed as she stalked down the hall to where he knew a small rookery would be waiting. He would send a letter telling them to go to Volantis that they would meet the Martells there and from there they would journey back west.

Illyrio walked over to the soft crying ravens running his fingers gently along with the smooth glistening black feather. A warm smile pulled at his lips as his heart thunder heavily in his chest, carefully and quickly he wrote a letter to his son making sure to encode the letter carefully so that even on the off chance that someone intercepts the message at the very least they wouldn’t know what they were talking about.

Illyrio watched as the blackbird went flying through the sky after a long moment a sense of ease rushed over him as he started to make his way out of the room walking down the hall with a smug air about him.

He was enthralled, he heard the knights whispering on their way back to the manse that they needed to be careful. The prince and his twin sisters also had their eggs which meant there were six eggs for Illyrio to watch hatch then steal.

A pang of hunger filled his chest as he walked carelessly down the hall, “Magister Illyrio?” A smooth cunning voice filled the air.

Illyrio snapped his head back so that he could see a young boy slipping out of the shadows bright indigo eyes locked on me. There was this smug darkness that fluttered across his face as he slapped the back of Illyrio's shoulder.

“Shall we have got to the feast together?” Aegon's voice was charming.

He had a carefree look on his eyes and an easy smile pulling at his lips. He knew that he was as wild as his mother. There was a smug look on his face like he knew that Illyrio could not be trusted and he was reveling in the anxiety that it caused the older fat man. He could only smile and nodded his head.

Illyrio knew that he couldn’t play Aegon the way that he did Viserys but that didn’t mean that he wouldn't try some other method at least until they hatched the dragons for his son then he would put them out of their mercy his son would rule the throne.


	15. The Stags and Dire wolves Come Together

Catelyn II

A blast of cold night air blows into the chamber. On the bed, Catelyn pulls the furs up to her chin. Ned breathes deeply, taking the cold into his lungs, staring out into the dark. He had been lost in thought since he went to talk with Ned and Benjen he knew that something was wrong even if he did not tell his wife she could read it all over his face. Ned turns back to face her.

“I’ll refuse him,” Ned spoke with false conviction.

Catelyn knew that was more for her than it was for him he had taken the job the moment that the king had offered it to him. He was worked up there would be no reason to be all that worked up unless he had said yes and not shortly after he got bad news there must have been something going on but what.

“You cannot. You must not.” Catelyn spoke in a desperate voice.

She swore that she had this same conversion with Brandon and look how that turned out he is still dead, and his father was killed trying to save not one but two of his children. Killed by a monster and nowhere Ned lay trying to do the same thing going south to help a king that he should not. But she knew that if he was here and Ned was willing to leave without much for a fight then it must have been something important.

Still, that did not mean that Ned was not going to put a false fight wishing to stay.

“You said yourself I could tell him no. I am a Northman. I belong here, not down south in that rats’ nest they call a capital.” Ned spoke and this time he seemed to mean it.

But even then, Catelyn could see the internal battle that had been going on in the mind of them and that she learned to love. There was more going on than any of them were willing to admit, why else would he make Benjen interim Warden of the North in his stead while taking their daughters and son to the south.

Why else would he want his wife at his side if not for something important?

“He would make our daughter Queen,” Catelyn spoke in a smooth voice.

In this his face darkened like the thought disturbed him; they all knew that he was a charming and gallant man but that didn't change the fact that he hated the Lannisters they were one of the reasons that their family had been in so much pain throughout the years.

Ned turns away, facing the darkness again. She softens and is about to go to him when a loud knock comes at the door.

“I gave orders not to be disturbed.” Ned’s voice was a horse with emotions that Catelyn could not discern.

From the other side of the door, a sentry answer.

“It’s Maester Luwin calling, my lord. He insists” A charged and in-stent voice filled the air.

Ned slips on a heavy robe, knowing that the master was not one for folly and over-excitement, so he took in heavy and depressed breathing.

“Send him in,” Ned spoke in a murderous voice.

The door opens and Maester Luwin enters. He waits until the door is shut behind him before speaking.

“My lord, pardon for disturbing your rest. I have been left a message.” Luwin spoke as the other two got dressed.

Catelyn could sense the tension that was lingering in the air as utter confusion began to hang in the air, Ned seemed on edge and every message felt strange almost as if he were waiting for something to drop.

“Been left? By whom?” Ned seemed genuinely confused.

“There was no messenger, my lord. Only a carved wooden box, left on a table in my observatory while I slept. This was concealed in a false bottom.” The older man spoke in a cool voice.

Maester Luwin draws a tightly rolled paper from his loose sleeves. Ned holds out his hand expecting to get the message forcing his wife to sit in the background as the men did business. But just as Ned was about to take the message there was a tension that began to fill up his body there was something off.

“Let me have it, then,” Ned spoke with anxious energy closing his body.

“A thousand pardons, my lord. The message is marked for the eyes of Lady Catelyn alone.” Luwin spoke in a smooth voice.

Ned is not used to being denied by anyone below the rank of king, so this was a new and startling development to him, but he knew that these were strange times. He considers the old man for a second and steps aside, allowing Maester Luwin to place the paper on the bedside table. Luwin bows and begins to retreat.

“Stay,” Ned spoke in a steel-like voice.

There was no one that either of them trusted more than the elder man before them, he had great insight and he was duty-bound to them, the men of the chain took their oaths seriously at least this Maester did.

Catelyn looks at the blue wax moon-and-falcon seal on the paper with foreboding; they had not heard anything from her sister since the death of the lord a few moons ago. So, it was strange for them to send a message now. Could Robert have followed his father to an early grave? Apprehension and worry began to flood her mind as she spoke in a somewhat shaky voice.

“It’s from my sister. Something is wrong. Why would she hide the letter? They said she left the capital right after he died…” Her voice drew on with indecision not sure of what to say.

“Open it,” Ned spoke in a hurried voice.

Catelyn knew that whatever this letter had to say it had something to do with whatever Benjen and Ned were talking about with the king. Catelyn breaks the seal. Her eyes move over the words. For a moment, she is confused-- then a smile flits across her lips.

“She took no chances. When we were girls, we had a private language.” Catelyn spoke in a proud voice.

But she had no clue how lost her sister truly was or what she had done before she had sent this letter.

“Can you still read it?” Ned spoke on the edge of his seat.

Catelyn did not understand what made her husband so on edge tonight.

“Yes…” Her smile disappears as she reads.

Catelyn wraps herself in one of the bed furs and pads toward the hearth. She tosses the paper in the fire and watches to make sure it burns through. Though the words on the paper haunted her.

“She says Jon Arryn was murdered. By the Targaryens. How is this possible the only two Targaryens left are children? Lysa goes on to say that they had killed him to sow seeds of dissent in southern politics.” Confusion forced Catelyn to snap her head up.

When she looked over to the old maester she saw the way that his brows began to furrow and wrinkles started to form in his forehead as his finger thumb was a link in the chain that she had heard him tell Rob was dragon glass. Proof that he mastered the mystical arts there was nothing more magical than the Targaryens.

The Targaryen of old were dragon riders but these Targaryens were nothing more than children of real threat to the crown. At least that is what she thought until she turned to look at her husband who had this dangerous sense of outrage falling across his face. With long strides, he stalked over to the window.

Something was foreshadowing about the look on his face that made Catelyn think that he knew something, her mind whirled her sister might have changed in the years but she was not mad, she knew the difference between her madness and reliability. If she said that the Targaryens did this then she had to be telling her truth.

“This is madness, isn't it? What would the Stormborn Babe and the beggar prince want with Jon Arryn?” Confusion flutters across her face.

A wave of distortion flooded her chest as Ned's body began to stiffen, slowly he turned giving both his red-haired wife and the older man a calculating stare before he let out a heavy breath.

“They are not the only Targaryens, Robert didn't just come here to ask me to be his hand, it turns out that Rhaegar lived, Ser Martell took his place, he is truly alive and hidden away even as we speak he makes his way east looking for his siblings,” Ned spoke in an apprehensive voice.

Cat’s mind whirled as she struggled to breathe, collapsing in a chair beside the fire listening to the soft pops and creaks of wood against flames. Hoping that the steady pops would allow for her heart to slow and her mind to have time to cope with the news. Was this why he was going to go south why he wanted to take the girls and her to the capital with Bran?

Her mind could not cope with her mouth hung and her jaw was rocking back and forth as Maester Luwin spoke in a revered voice.

“That is why you are leaving Benjen in charge of Winterfell, Robb is just a boy and has no battle experience. If they did come to the west, you need Winterfell in good hands. No hands are better than Benjen. He fights off the Iron Born daily, a few south hacks who follow a disgraced prince would be no major threat to him.” Maester Luwin spoke in a smooth voice.

The moment that he spoke, Cat snapped her head up looking at the man that she thought she could trust the man that she thought she loved with all her heart. Why would not he trust her with this information until he did not have a choice? 

Cat sighed heavily as she shook her head. She knew that they would have to tell the king this news that would change the whole landscape of the West. They are trying to keep it secret even though she could understand that, but it did not take away the sting that her husband did not trust her with this information.

“Yes, having the Starks in more than one place keeps the North safe in the coming war, Robb is staying here with Benjen and learning everything that he can from his uncle. Bran will learn to be a knight in the south, Sansa will be Queen if we allow it and while that might be a good thing now, if we lose this war then she will be killed with the rest of the royal family. Until we are certain that we can win the battle I did not want to commit her to them let alone a Lannister but now it would seem that we have no choice. As for Arya, she needs to grow up in court, we will need the favor of the other lords if the Targaryens do come back. We will need all the allies we can get; Robert does not want anyone to know that he does not need to know but now that you do, we will need to plan accordingly. Robert needs to know about this. Maester Luwin please go wake up the king.” Ned spoke with a chilling stillness.

Catelyn did not know what to say. She could only watch Luwin leave as a soldier-like persona took over her husband; he was not the warm and kind man that she knew. Instead, he was distant and calculating like the only thing that she could think about was that they could be going to war. Confusion flooded her mind as she thought about Rickon; he did not even think about or plan anything that involved Rickon.

“What about Rickon?” Confusion flooded Cat’s voice.

She was almost terrified to know what he might or might not have planned, if he did have something planned for their youngest son then she would lose him. But if Ned didn't have a plan did that mean that Ned thought so little about their son that he didn't even have a plan for their son as if he was not worth the time that it took to think about him.

Though when she looked at her husband, she wished that she had never asked the question. There was a mixture of worry and doubt flooding across his face as he looked up at his wife. His smoke gray eyes began to soften to a soft smoke gray filled with pity. He knew how she felt about her youngest two children.

“He will go south to spend time with his aunt and cousin in the Vale once the dragons died the Vale once again was impregnable will be the safest place for him, he will learn fighting from the knights that I once learned from. He will be safe and grow up strong, I want you to come south with me. I am going to need your council. The younger children will need you. If you so choose you can split your time between the Vale and the Crownlands I will not object.” Ned spoke.

Each word that fell from his lips made her grief pile on her like a mountain she could not breathe let alone think straight. But what about Robb was he to live alone here in the North with an estranged uncle and an aunt that was closer to his age than his uncles.

She couldn't even form a word and all that she could think about was now not only did she have to talk to the king she had to deal with it on top of the fight that she was having with her husband.

“This is not over” Catelyn sneered at him as they both stared off into the flames.

Waiting in silence for the king and queen to make their way into their solar where they would surely begin to enter a screaming match.

* * *

Cersei II

It started as a soft thrum like a finger running gently against the wooden door, then it was a thunderous sound that shook the door and ripped the king and queen from the bed. Cersei’s eyes snapped up. Things were cold and slow in the North so she knew that there was no way that they would be knocking on the door unless it was something important.

At first, there was a fury that flooded her body as she shifted her stare disgust dulling her fury as she looked at the fat drunken fool that was slowly stirring at her side. For once his face was not bright rage from either drink or rage. He almost looked serene as his bright black bear greeted her. She almost remembers why she had loved him to begin with then she remembers her wedding night.

The whispers of Lyanna still haunted her to this day a sneer pulled at her lips as she slowly started to throw her feet off the bed. A shiver rushed down her spine as her furs slipped from her shoulder and her feet dangled over the icy wooden floor. Goosebumps rose on her pale snow-white skin as her golden curls rippled down her back. Giving her some warmth as he struggled to keep her eyes open.

The loud pounding kept going, not stopping until the king was forced to wake up, he groaned in outrage as he rolled out of the bed slowly and fat, not the least a bit like he used to be. At their younger age, he would launch himself off the bed after a drunken insight of sex with whores from all over the realm.

She started to rise from the bed walking over to the door shuffling with rage constructing every muscle in his body as he cracked open the door. Cersei was shocked to see that it was her brother, his golden hair tousled as if his fingers were running through his golden hair. There was a sense of hunger in his emerald eyes as he leered at the king that he hated so much.

Resting behind him was an old man with pale blue eyes that was shifting his gaze when he noticed that the queen was indecent; it was only then that he spoke.

“Your grace, there is news from Lady Arryn it would seem that there is some urgent knowledge that you need to know about.” The older man spoke in a rushed voice.

There was this dangerous energy that cradled in the air.

“What could this be about? Don't tell me that Jon Arryn told them the truth about the children.” Cersei thought.

Panic crept through her heart as she placed a gentle hand on the ground pulling her fur from the side of her and draping it around her dainty shoulder doing her best to listen without making it seem like she was eavesdropping.

Robert let out an outraged bellow as he spoke, “What could be so important that Ned would wake me up from my sleep”

Cersei rolled her eyes so the north is so boring that they tend to overreact whenever something new happens, Cersei went up throwing on red silks before dropping the smooth white fur back over her shoulder as she looked over to the older man. He is no longer averting his gaze now that she is dressed. She could see the panic and urgency in his eyes; he knew the truth but why would Ned betray them like that.

If there was one thing that she could say about Ned and his brood they valued their honor unlike the ruthless king and queens of Winter.

“Lord Stark and Lady Stark received a letter concerning the Targaryens,” Luwin spoke in a rushed voice.

The minute that he mentioned the Targaryens there was something in the air that changed there was a murderous fury flooded Roberts's face as his face turned a bright red. He was outraged that his trusted brother would betray him so instead he rushed to get dressed and before they knew it, they were walking with the Starks private solar.

They expected to hear yelling and screaming as if the two starks would be arguing about the lies that Ned told them but when they walked into the room there was a stilling silence that forced a sneer to be pulled at Cersei’s face. She, much like her foolish husband, was outraged that Ned would betray them so quickly and easily. Yet when they walked into the room there was a paper burning over the fire crackle.

Though Cersei could see the hawk and crescent moon wax burning as she leered at the paper now more than ever there was anxiety flooding her body. Jon Arryn the sly coot was the Targaryen angel just another way of throwing her off her game. At least that was her thinking until Robert let out a bellow.

“Need you to fool what are you thinking!!!” Robert roared with hate.

Ned on the other hand didn't so much as give him a second look as he looked over to his wife a dangerous look flutter over her face as she looked at him as if to say don't you dare blame me for this. Instead, she turned to look at her king a bit of fear filling her river blue eyes when she looked to see the bright red fury on his face.

“He didn't have a choice; I got a letter from my sister the very thing that you might notice burning in the fire pit. She wrote it in a code that we made up as children, she says that the Targaryens poisoned Jon Arryn; they wanted to sow seeds of deceit between the kingdoms. It was only after I knew about the Targaryens did he tell me.” Catelyn spoke in a matter of fact voice.

There was this dangerous look on Robert's face and a blood lust flooded his face as his eyes darkened and a storm began to brew in his cobalt blue eyes. His muscle began to tighten as animalists snarl left his lips.

His mind whirled and Ned spoke quickly to calm both their rising tempers, “I will accept your deal as hand. Sansa will marry Joffrey when she gets her moon's blood. The North and the South will unite and kill those Targaryens. It was not enough that he plunged this realm into war, and killed all that we loved once before, now he is going to truly pay.”

The moment that he spoke Robert bellow in victory like this was the best news that they had heard, Cersei had her sly smile, they would finally have their hands on the North, vast lands that were ripe for development and fields. Untapped minds of coal, onyx, maybe even diamond hidden away in this untouched frozen earth. All of it would be theirs.

A hunger filled Cersei as Robert spoke not once looking back to see the dangerous look on the scheming Lannister emerald eyes.

“We will take a few days to relax then we'll head south to begin our plans. Benjen will be lord of Winterfell until he thinks that Robb is ready, there is a war coming and we cannot have green boys losing this war. We cannot let the Targaryens rule over us any longer. They do not have dragons any longer there is no reason for us to bend the knee.” Robert spoke in such a sure voice.

But he could not have known that there were six dragon eggs in play and vengeful Targaryens in the wings. This would not be a straightforward battle not with a Blackfyre hidden in the wings and a Kingdom on the verge of open rebellion.

While they are in the North the Starks and Baratheon never wonder what the Martells were doing in the south.

* * *

Doran I

In his early fifties, Doran is a cautious, pensive, and subtle man which was why he was hesitant to act when his brother came to him with plans to rise. He is prone to think long on the matters before him, weighing every word and every action. That could be seen now as he rubbed his chin wearily not sure of what to think or what to say.

Doran has a bad case of gout which has recently left him unable to walk, instead of having to rely on his wheeled chair, or a palanquin, to move around. He appears to be much older than he is in truth. His body is soft and shapeless, and gout has swollen and reddened the joints of his knees, toes, and hands.

It is because of this gout that many people in Dorne think him weak and foolish to bow to a man that not only killed his sister and raped her but killed their children as well. It would have been a simple matter sending them to live in Dorne for the rest of their days. Or to marry the princess to their son but instead of thinking ahead, they killed the children. Now 14 years later now that they have still done nothing to stop them or get back at them, he knew that his people were looking down on him.

While his bannermen might consider him weak, Doran has been focused for years on getting revenge for the murder of his sister, Elia, and her two young children during the Sack of King's Landing during Robert's Rebellion. But he planned to always marry Arianne to Viserys and Quentyn to Daenerys. But this plan that they propose would be different the Martells and Targaryens have been allies since they got married that was not going to change now

Doran was raised alone but he had a deep affection for his sister who loved Rhaegar with no fault of her own and had a good relationship with his younger brother as well. But he would not betray the Targaryen that were family by law.

“Brother, would you just listen to him,” Oberyn spoke in a pensive voice.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and rage flooded his chest as he leered at his elder brother. He thought that he was going to be more willing to accept this, but Doran leered at his younger brother. Wondering if he was going to get fooled by this bullshit or if all of this was truly real.

Varys stood firm as he bored respectively ignoring the sallow joints of the man that was the lord of Sunspear. They were a gruesome and hideous sight so it was easy to ignore as he looked into the dark obsidian eyes of the Lord of Sunspear he spoke steadily and truthfully.

“What I say is true, I have no reason to lie, Arthur knew that Rhaegar was not going to make it off of that battlefield; he knew that he was no true warrior, a great leader, sure. He had an air about him that inspired people, but he knew that he was not a warrior. So, he had your uncle dress as the king and whisked him and his wife away.” Varys spoke in a cool voice.

Suddenly hope fluttered in the chest of Doran when he said to his wife, he was hoping that it might have been his sister even though he had no reason to think such a thing. Oberyn could not help but pity his elder brother because he had thought the same thing when he first heard the term wife but just like Oberyn, Doran would soon find out the truth.

“Queen Lyanna, he married her in secret the rebellion was a lie there was never was a rape they are married happily with three children they even had the nerve to name their son Aegon,” Oberyn spoke with venomous hate.

The moment that he spoke something in Doran turned cold and dangerous he looked outraged as his eyes began to light up and his brows furrowed. Arianne and Queen could still marry the Targaryen siblings and launch a fight against their elder brother if need be. The thought tumbled repeatedly in his mind not sure of what to think.

But just when he thought that he had it all planned out Varys spoke in a smooth voice, “I know what you are thinking you will side with the younger sibling and launch an attack against Rhaegar and his children. Even now they are linking up with the younger Targaryen and are planning their next moves.” Varys voice was almost amused like he was taking pleasure in the news

Doran rubbed his jaw mournfully as he rolled to the window to the Sunspear looking out to see his most trusted ally. Areo. Areo is broad-shouldered with white hair. He bears a long ax that has a shaft six feet long Doran trusted him with all things but could he trust him with this news would it spread through the kingdoms they needed the element of surprise they craved it.

“We give you a better choice Maegor Blackfyre under the guise of Aegon Targaryen, your dead nephew who had Jon at his side. The lord of Griffin roost does not know that Rhaegar is alive let alone looking for him. We have done a good job isolating him.” Varys spoke in a smooth voice.

Doran looked back watching his dark eyes begin to shimmer with a mischievous glint as his bald head shone in the morning light, his silk robes greeted the lord as Doran looked over to Oberyn. He knew that his little brother wanted justice for his sweet sister. They grew up together so for them it was a lot more personal than that.

“They killed her, cut her in half but not before raping her, that was the mountain sure, but it would not have happened if not for Rhaegar. He chose love over duty, and our niece and nephew got killed for it. He did not even look back; he kept going, took his wife and baby, and left his first family for dead. He had to know what would happen to them when he left. He could have sent them to Dragonstone to escape with his siblings, but they did not, instead, he left them for dead. Now he had his siblings back and they are going to make their way west brother. It will never be the same as the Baratheon sent someone to kill me and here Varys stands giving us a way out. Maegor. Give me time to get east, meet this boy, and see what there is to see. You know I will not lead us wrong. Not on this not when justice hangs in the balance.” Oberyn spoke in a commanding voice.

Though Doran could see the desperation in his eyes and he was right if not for Rhaegar, Robert would have never revolted; he would have taken over his father's role as king and Aegon would have been king after him. Instead, he did something foolish and many perished. Their sister included.

After taking heavy sigh grief and rage flooded his body and he knew that he could not simply overlook this choice.

“Go check him out if you think that we should side with him and bring him back here. I want to see him for myself.” Doran spoke in a commanding tone.

Oberyn smile and nodded his head and he was not the only one, Doran was no fool he knew that Varys was trying to manipulate him, but as long as his family came out on top and the Martells finally got justice for their lost love ones then they were fine with what came after.

To the east, they go to speak to a false Targaryen.


	16. Listen To The Music They Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one of the day  
> Illyrios death is coming soon within the next chapter

Meleys I

She was stunning in every way and Meleys elder brother was enthralled by her, it was like he could not take his eyes off her. He had this charming smile on his face as his wild indigo eyes were lit up in joy. She had only seen her brother this happy when he was riding horses, he was easy to smile but even this smile seemed more blinding.

Daenerys was blushing and giggling with joy as Enyo began to taunt and poke at Egg, joking about how she would hear him whispering Dany's name when he was dreaming. But Egg gave as good as he got.

“Oh, and whose name was on your lips while you were sleeping last night?” Aegon question with a certain smugness that told Dany that it was Aegon's name

Meleys could not help but laugh as Arthur and Rhaegar were drinking, smiling, and plotting their next moves as they watched the children enjoy their company. The heat of the large feast hall swirled around the room as the scent of meat, sweet wines, and tarts filled Meleys nose.

The only other time that he was this carefree was when he was with Enyo, the two of them always had a connection that Meleys could not understand and did not want to understand. She would have preferred a handsome dragon lord from Volantis. 

She didn't feel right breaking up their party, “Go on then, you can't get to know her if you are too worried to speak to her. Mel?” The sweet voice of Lyanna ripped her daughter from her thoughts.

When Meleys turned around her mother's sweet smoke gray eyes had a haze running through her eyes that told Meleys that her mother was drinking as much as her father. She had a silver aurora that whirled around her. Many called her the warrior or winter queen; she had power and air about her that forced all kinds of men and women alike to trip over themselves when they were around her.

Everyone loved her, she is easy to love, that was something that Aegon and Meleys got from their mother but that did not mean that they were as outgoing as her. At least Meleys was not but she had a point and Meleys knew that.

“But….” Meleys did not get a chance to finish her sentence as her mother placed a firm hand on either shoulder and shoved her forward until she was standing before her aunt and siblings.

“Daenerys, this is Meleys, she is super-duper shy,” Lyanna spoke in a higher pitch voice than usual.

Meleys looked back mortified by her mother's voice and words, but Daenerys seemed to have a gentle smile on her face as she spoke with a loving aura around her that made everyone around her warmup.

“Of course, I am the same way, let's walk and talk.” Her voice was sweet and kind.

Without even thinking about it, Daenerys looped her arm in Meleys and together they walked out the stifling feast hall until they were walking about the night gardens. There was a soft silver ethereal glow as the sky turned a bright red and orange color as the sun slowly started to lower over the horizon.

Blue and red silks whipped together against the cobblestones as their silver and brown curls rippled down their back. A sense of impending worry and doom seemed to fill both their chest as Daenerys patted her hand gently as she spoke.

“Your brother and sister are quite outgoing types. I could not say no to them even if I wanted to, but you are sweet and kind, just a bit shy like me. My brother kept me down hidden in the shadows beating me down with cruel words as well as actions. I never got the chance to blossom into a warrior or a lady or even a princess. I can only assume the same could be said for you. Your elder twin, a great warrior, and your elder brother a brilliant warrior, and strategist as well as the future king to a kingdom that none of us have ever been in. It is a lot even for a Targaryen to handle. Look at my brother he snapped under the weight and turned cruel and hardened.” Daenerys seemed lost in thought.

Talking more to herself than Meleys, but as she looked into the deep violet eyes of her aunt and saw the haunted look in her eyes as she thought about the brother who coined laying in a feather bed. Fighting off the waves of pain that overcame him from a brutal beating that he only got because of his actions. Meleys could not help but pity and hate him.

She might not have been brutalized like her brother or sister but that did not change the fact that they were her family, and she would have killed anyone that would have harmed them. She was not sure how she would do such a thing she was not a warrior like her mother or siblings. But she had a great mind for ruling and politics like her father. She was pretty and conscious of the wanting looks that men gave her the few times that she did go into two with her father.

But she spent more time in the library in their manse than she did fighting or riding, she was good at politics at the game of thrones even if she had yet to start the game. Speaking to Daenerys she realized how true those words rang, it is hard to stand on an island living in the shadows of two great siblings but soon that would and could change.

Her brother might be a great Khal now, but she would be a great hand she knew it and she would prove it to all of them. Suddenly, a fry determination flooded her as she thought about her future role in taking over the kingdoms.

“Now that is a face deep in thought.” Daenerys giggled forcing Meleys from her thoughts

Gentle violet eyes were no longer lost in thought, there was no hate or pain or grief for the thoughts of her brother Viserys. Or even the losses and tortures that she must have sustained before they got here.

There was only this look of hope that forced Meleys heart to thunder in her chest as she knew that something magical was about to happen. Meleys felt giddy and filled with joy as she looked to her newfound aunt speaking in a careless and carefree voice.

“So, since Egg is now the Khal of a Dothraki horde by their custom since he killed the Khal, he takes everything that the former Khal had including say his wife. The Khalessi” Meleys spoke in a coy voice.

She grinned gently as she watched the bright red blush that flushed across Daenerys face as she looked up to the sky watching the clouds turn a bright gold color of the clouds drifting across the sky. She patted Meleys arm and Meleys noticed that her hand was clammy and awkward as she tapped her niece's arm gently.

There was love filling her eyes as she spoke in a cool voice, “I suppose that was true, but I would have thought that you and Enyo would have been promised to Aegon.” Her voice is casual and smooth.

But Meleys could tell that she was trying to hide her interest in her brother, forcing her to smile as they turned to walk the scent of lavender and vanilla sweet and claiming it filled both girls. Lamps were littering the courtyard each giving off a purple glow, there was tinted glass about the lamp so as the fire flickered and glow against the glass turning it purple.

Just like the scent of vanilla and lavender and the soft glow of the sky calmed them, on the distant ocean shore they could see the Dothraki cover in sweat as they went to work there were two huge pyres one was larger than the other that held the Kahl and his blood riders.

There were layers to the pyre at the very top lay the former Kahl and his red stallion the gorgeous beast was slaughtered for the ritual. While on the lower level of the pyre rested not only his three blood riders but their horses as well.

Dany had spent some time talking to the Dothraki with the help of Aegon who translated it as during the feast she did not feel right eating and drinking while they were toiling away in the hot sun.

Meleys knew that she had a gentle heart and she also knew that her aunt would have to harden her heart before this war was over. Though Meleys was not going to tell her that and not when she was no better with her gentle sensibilities.

Violet's eyes were glimmering in the night as she waited for the response of Meleys, whose eyes were locked not only on the dead body that Daenerys knew to be Ser Gerold, one of the few kinds of souls that she met in the east that was from the west. Having her family here was great but other than the knights and Rhaegar and Lyanna no one else knew what the west was like.

“Me no, but my mother was always hoping that Enyo was going to marry Aegon, I love my brother just not in that way. My parents would never push the issues since they married for love betraying their oaths in the process.” Meleys spoke in a warm voice.

She could not help but get this starry look in her eyes. Nothing was more romantic than their story even if it ended in blood and death that did not seem to brother the young princess. There was a warm smile pulling at her lips as she looked over to Daenerys. She was both thrilled and saddened by the words that the Meleys said.

Meleys could see the panic in her eyes so she did her best to put her at ease as they walked through the apple orchard. “Father has talked about keeping the bloodline pure; he didn't want to marry us to lords in the west not after he found the eggs. When Enyo showed no more than a friendship with Egg's father investigated the dragon lord family Belaerys one remaining male heir is resting in the black wall. The others were all women, but a year ago that seemed to change but like I said father wants to keep the bloodline pure no one is as pure as you Dany.” 

These words helped to put the princess at ease as they walked over to the balcony leaning over the smooth marble railing as their curls laid tightly against her face as Daenerys looked down at the Dothraki. A small smile on her face as she tilted her chin out and spoke with pride blooming not only in her voice but her appearance.

“They call me Khalessi. There are three men that I think could be loyal and a good addition to the forces, blood riders is the term that they use. Once their khal dies they kill the men that killed their khal and then they die and follow their khal’s into the afterlife. There is a sense of poetic justice to it, a literal undying loyalty to the man that they follow. There would be no one better to protect Aegon and me I.” Daenerys spoke in a cool voice.

Meleys looked back to the three men that Daenerys hoped to make blood riders, “The one to the left is Jhogo” Daenerys spoke in a sweet voice as she looked at the young boy.

The minute that Meleys saw him, she scanned every inch of his face and body if he was going to be a blood rider to their family to her brother and aunt then she had to make sure that they could be trusted.

Jhogo is very thin with a faint shadow of a mustache, there was a sly grin on his face as he burst out into laughter as two other men were laughing with him.

“The one in the center is Aggo '' Daenerys spoke again with a smooth intuitive voice.

He was an older man with a thick black beard and dark obsidian eyes that had a dangerous and murderous glint to them. He had the look of a trained killer and Meleys knew that is what they needed now, but the sight of the man-made her nervous.

“Did Egg approve of that man?” Meleys spoke with doubt oozing in her words.

The thought forced Daenerys to smile as she thought back to the sweet prince that conversed as easily with the Dothraki as he would someone from the west. He did not fear them, and he did not hold some outdated notion that all Dothraki are savages. They might not live in castles but to him, they live a peaceful and simple existence like the free folk of the west.

“He likes Aggo especially because he says that not only is he a veteran of combat his appearance alone would be a deterrent from anyone that thought they could simply attack without thinking. The last boy is Rakharo '' Daenery's voice was cool and matter of fact.

She didn't look all that comfortable by the large man though you could tell that it would be some time before she was going to be comfortable around him that didn't mean that she didn't trust the older man to keep her safe if there was ever a bind.

Rakharo is older than Jhogo, he has drooping black mustachios. Meleys knew that throughout their journey he would grow taller and more muscular, and while he did not have any braids in his hair did not mean that there would not be some in the coming time.

After a long moment, the two simply stood there looking at the Dothraki and thinking about what might happen next. It was only then that someone appeared.

“Princesses, it's time the players are ready, the others are making their way down there, the eggs are being brought to the fire as prince Aegon and princess Daenerys insisted. Princess, I heard that you were taken care of by Ser Darry my brother, that you were with him in his final moments. It's good to know that he was not alone.” Ser Darry spoke in a warm voice.

Jonothor spoke in a warm voice as Daenerys turned back to see thinning silver hair and gentle blue eyes that had a loving sparkle even in his advancing age he was still handsome and had the looks of a true nobleman. There was a kindness that fluttered across his face as he looked at the princess but Meleys was convinced at the mention of the legs.

“What do the eggs have to do with the pyre?” Confusion echoed in Meleys’ words and face.

* * *

Daenerys III

Dany turned back looking at her niece as her heart boomed with anticipation as her fingers were running through her curls as she thought about the best way to explain this without looking mad. Confusion flooded her as Daenerys flashed back to when she first knocked on Aegon's door.

_ A few hours earlier _

_ Daenerys' heart pounded in his chest, her mouth dry and awkward as she looked at the massive wooden door that was glowing with a bright finish. She can hear movement behind the door so at the very least she knew that there was someone in the room, her knuckles hovered over the door, but she could not bring herself to knock. _

_ “Come on Dany what is wrong with you,” Daenerys thought to herself. _

_ Chasiting herself for not being able to work up the nerve to knock on the door, her hands were clammy and slippery from the sweat that was ripped out of every pore in her body. Her heart thundered in her chest, when she closed her eyes to steady her heart, her mind flashed back to her dreams from the past couple of weeks. _

_ It was the same dream over and over again three dragons darting through the sky their flames bursting apart the ground as they ruled over the dead and living together the wind bit at their skin and flames were bursting apart as the woods came alive and a little boy no more than 6 was standing before the flames waiting for a dragon to come out of the ashes. _

_ She thought that she was going mad because she had her deep violet eyes but snow-white curls and the long but beautiful face of the North. Not long after that dream, her mind was consumed with the same thought day in and day out. It was the same thought that rushed through his mind all day. _

_ “Fire and blood” The voice was thick and raspy, almost reptilian. _

_ There was a dangerous fury in the words that were growing more and more impatient as the weeks went on and finally in the presence of the dragon prince those voices were finally quiet down. Then not a moment later they were awoken the moment that she heard the rumor that the prince and his sister had dragon eggs. _

_ Now she stood there frozen. _

_ “Dany?” A shocked voice filled the air. _

_ Dany looked up to see that there was a warm and easy smile on the young prince’s face as he grinned at her bright indigo eyes that were lit up with love and ease. His plump pink lips were quirked into a smile, but her eyes were locked not on his face but his body. He wore nothing but a white towel revealing his tone. _

_ There was scar lining his body almost traumatic to witness sure his skin was a cool golden brown but long white line scars were littering his arms and dance across his heart, his body was a road map of all the attempts made on his life from the Baratheon men.  _

_ “See something you like princess,” Aegon spoke in a flirty tone _

_ His lips hovering over her left ear as his breath tickled her gentle skin, a sly smile pulling on his face as a shudder of pleasure rushed down the spine as she was forced to look back up to his face as blush creeping across her face as she spoke. _

_ “How did you know that I was standing out here?” Confusion runs in her words. _

_ Creeping heat splashed across her face as she fought the urge to look away, she would not fold under the heat of his stare. It was warm and kind, not cold and predatory like her brother Viserys. It was nice to be wanted but not hunted like some morsel to be eaten by the big bad wolf. Or in Aegon's case the dragon wolf. _

_ A sly grin pulled at his face as a joking air encircled the two of them as he leaned down and looked at her with a warmth bubbling in his face as he began to pull away. _

_ “I could see a set of feet at the door. I don't know that it would be you, please come in.” His tone turned polite and cordial as he walked into the room. _

_ Daenerys looked at two open spaces; it was not as large as her room, not it needed to be, who knew how long they would be staying here before they moved to the next city. As she slowly started to make her way into the room her eyes were locked, not on the clothes that were resting on the bed, a white doublet with a golden trim with matching white boots. The blade Blackfyre was hidden in the red scabbard. _

_ Instead, it was the egg that was resting on a brazier. The coals were a scarlet red as black smoke wafted out of the room as the balcony doors were open. The flames were long gone but the coals were still hot and burning with power. The egg seemed to almost be taking up the heat; the crimsoned colored scales were glinting like metal. _

_ Daenerys was taken by the radiant color she had never seen a dragon egg that was only one color then again this is only her second time seeing a dragon egg beside her wedding gifts. There was a small smile pulling at Daenery's lips as she walked over to the egg-like something was calling to her. _

_ “How long have you had your egg?” Wonder filled her eyes as she spoke. _

_ Joy bubbled in her chest as her fingers ran along the egg surface expecting it to be burning to the touch but instead it was lukewarm at best. She expected to see a scale to be burned on her fingers but instead, her hand was as smooth as she remembered it. A warmth began to flutter in her heart and her stomach. _

_ “Since I was born, father found the eggs long forgotten in the dragon pit, they might have been some of the last eggs Dreamfyre hatched from. When I was born, I was given the crimson egg shortly after we left Dorne. When my sister was born, Enyo was given a purple egg with green flakes and Meleys a radiant silver egg. They rarely ever leave our side. There was a time when I would even bathe with the egg.” Aegon laughed gently as he stared at the crimson egg. _

_ When Daenerys turned around to look at him, he was fully clothed as he grinned at her warm and inviting it was like she could trust him no matter what. Though there was a strange look on his eyes that told her that there was more going on with his egg then he was willing to admit to a stranger. But just like her, something was drawing him in closer to these young princes. _

_ “Something wrong?” Daenerys questioned a sweet smile on her face as she tucked a loose strand of silver hair behind her ear. _

_ She was positioned and in control, but she could tell that there was something off with the prince, at least not something that he was willing to talk about. At least that was her thinking until he took in a steady breath and smiled. _

_ “A voice that kept screaming fire and blood at first I was going mad but then Ser Gerold died, he had faith that one day the eggs would hatch and might dragons would awake and rule over this world. Then it hit me, fire and blood what if they were more than words…” Aegon stopped talking lost in thought. _

_ Daenerys on the other hand picked up on his thinking and spoke in a quicken voice. “It started with a dream first the whispers were just at night, but they started to grow more and more insistent. Until finally it just stops when you get here.” Daenerys spoke in a smooth voice. _

_ Aegon snapped up his head snapping to attention as a sense of urgency rushed over them both, their eyes moving to the Dothraki as their minds wandered to the four dead men that were resting on the pyre. They have blood and fire, and they have the eggs. All they need is the right magic. Their dreams and whispers seem to tell them that they are the ones that needed to hatch the eggs. _

_ “We should place the eggs on the pyre” Both spoke in unison. _

_ There was a sparkle of joy that flashed through both of their eyes like they finally knew that they were not mad, a right sparkle formed in their violet and indigo eyes. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence as they gazed deeply in their eyes almost like they were drawn into their gaze. _

_ A spark rushed through them as Dany finally spoke as if she had to or that there was a compulsion that was overtaking her as if she needed to ask the question. _

_ “What about Enyo and Meleys? Do they have dreams? Hear the voice?” Daenerys' inquisitive tone filled the air. _

_ At this Aegon looked away gazing at the Dothraki boys and girls some had somber expressions on their faces like the death of their Khal was the worst thing that could ever happen to them. While others were enthused as if they were glad that the khal was dead. Though it was like only the slaves were the ones that we're happy. _

_ Daenerys was disgusted with the day that they kept slaves she knew that she would be no better if she had married that Khal. She would be property as a baby-making factory nothing more nothing less. _

_ “Enyo yes on both counts by Meleys only have the dreams, not the voice. You think that we should let her in on the plan. It is the only way that we could take the egg from her and she could easily get the egg from Meleys. She is pretty skilled in sneaking and killing.” Aegon spoke in a smooth and thoughtful voice. _

_ Daenerys nodded her head heavily as she folded her arms over her budding chest, as she stared out at the slaves watching as they were forced to build one of the biggest pyres that she had ever seen. All so that a man that raped and enslaved them all so that he could be with his ancestors. _

_ “I want to free them” Daenerys' voice was hollow. _

_ Forcing Aegon to snap his head up from his scattered thoughts as he looked over following her line of sight as he leaned against the balcony letting his hands rest at his side. His snow-white hair resting on his shoulder as he nodded his head numbly. _

_ “That is fine with me but there must be more than fire and blood, grandfather had that and all he accomplished was burning down Summerhall. There had to be more to it.” Aegon was lost more in the thoughts about dragons than slaves. But that did not mean that he hated the barbaric system any less. _

_ Both were drawing a blank on what would make this any more different than before, “We walk in the fire” A smooth husky voice filled the air. _

_ Forcing both kids to turn to see the cause, a silver maiden with a voluptuous form her silver hair spilling down her body as she grinned at the two of them. Her arms folded under her large C cup breast, a sly grin on her face that told them that she was finding their confusion more enjoyable. _

_ “It's like you said Egg I'm good at sneaking, in a dream that I had I emerged from the fire unharmed, unscathed, and with me a baby dragon as poison purple with poisonous green eyes. If you want to make this work we should walk into the fire, free the slaves, and when the Dothraki tried to object we walk into the flames and come out on awesome with dragons they can't deny your rule then. Khal, Khalessi.” Her voice was warm and cunning. _

_ They had a plan now would they be able to enact it unbidden by the others, they would have to be cunning and quick or they would be stopped. No one would let them walk into the flames. _

Current time

Dany smiled politely as she grinned at her niece, not sure of how she would take the news that they had stolen her egg and did not tell her. Ser Darry shifted to look between the two princesses, not sure what to think or saw so he stood off to the side as Dany finally broke the silence.

“We think that we can hatch dragon eggs, so we take your egg don't be aggravated if it fails. The egg will be unharmed but if it works then you will have a dragon in its place.” Dany spoke in a soothing voice.

But she could see the outrage that was filling the stay of the young princes. Her eyes brows began to twitch with fury as the heat of the eastern sun was no longer the thing that created the heat in the atmosphere. Suddenly it was the rage of Meleys that made Dany sweat.

Her hair felt like iron weights weighing down her neck and head as she gave Meleys a sweet smile pulling at her face as she tried to ease the tension that racked the princess body but Meleys spoke in a cold voice with a menacing look on her face.

“We?” Confusion echoed in Meleys words.

There was a dangerous aurora that encircled her like the whole conversation that they had was whipped away with any kindness and trust that they built. Did she know that they had pulled her out here so that they could take her egg?

Daenerys looked to the beach where Aegon was placing his red egg and one of her eggs. The black one next to the heart of Ser Gerold. While Enyo placed her poisonous purple egg and the jade egg next to his head while Meleys silver egg and the cream and gold egg rested on either side of his arms.

“Aegon and Enyo. We should get going, I'm sorry for the deception but our plan is a bit unorthodox.” Dany spoke in a cautious voice.

After that she didn't say much they both walked down the spiraling staircase that led to the beach where thousands of Dothraki stood ready to send their Khal off among them were the three handmaidens that Daenerys got for her wedding.

Aegon and Enyo stood before the pyre as Dothraki men kept Rhaegar and Lyanna in their line of sight the whole time. Arthur, Jonothor, Oswell were off to the side with Dothraki blocking them as well almost as if they were not allowed to get too close to the Pyre. Meleys was filled with confusion as she looked at Daenerys trying to figure out what her plan was and why it had to involve her parents and loyal knights returned.

Was she drunk on power like her brother? Confusion echoed in her thoughts as she watched Daenerys glide over the white sands so that she was standing to the right of Aegon and Enyo to the left.

When she spoke she did so with power and authority that was unknown to any of them, they had only known her for half a day but Pentos people like Illyrio stared back at the young girl not sure what he was seeing there was doubt filling their eyes as Meleys notice that there were three men holding weapons that she was sure was from the wedding that she wanted nothing to do with.

“You will be our khalasar. We see the faces of slaves. We free you. Take off your collars. Go if you wish, no one will stop you. But if you stay it will be as brothers and sisters, as husbands and wives. Your khal my husband was challenged and lost, his blood riders fell and by law, we belong to the new Khal. He killed a good man and paid the price now it is your chance to choose right.” As Daenerys spoke, she nodded to her handmaiden who replayed her words in Dothraki.

They were elegant and smooth words that swayed many of the slaves; they happily ripped their colors off and ran away. While some stayed, the warrior did not dare move, not with their all-powerful Kahl looming over them with dark indigo eyes that were locked on them. Daring them to move. There was a stony calm that envelope the young prince as he looked over to the soldiers who were working on holding back the king and Queen.

“Aegon what is the meaning of this!!” Rhaegar roared in fury, the common tongue spilling from his lips.

A sneer pulled at his lips as outrage burned in his eyes as Daenerys spoke this time with a fiery power that had not been there before.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen of the blood of old Valyria. Your Khal is Aegon Targaryen of House Targaryen of the blood of old Valyria. I am the Dragon’s Daughter; he is the dragon's son. And we swear to you that those who would harm you will die screaming. Blood of my blood steps forward.” As Daenerys spoke the three men that she had been considering to be her blood rider stepped forward.

There was terror in the eyes of Lyanna like she knew something that they did not and as she spoke her force was shrill.

“Please don't do this. The eggs will not hatch, your lives will be cut short if you do this you will not rise from the ashes. Don't let the mad king's sickness and obsession swallow you.” At this a sad smile flutter on all three children’s faces.

They do not know what to say to ease her panic. There was no way that they would believe it unless they saw it. The young children stood firm in their beliefs as Illyrio looked over in confusion. His eyes were scanning the legs as he did his best to keep the excitement to himself. He did not care if the children died. It would mean that he got out of his son's ways and if he got dragons out of the situation then it was a win-win for him. They could only watch what was going on between the blood riders and their known Khalessi.

“Jhogo, to you I give the silver-handled whip that was my bridal gift, I name you ko, and ask your oath, that you will live and die as the blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm”

A pain expression fell on the young boy's face as he gave his khal a cautious stare, one that said you would have me be a Ko to a woman. But Aegon just gave him a firm nod one that said either you say yes, or I make you say yes. 

He gave Daenerys a cautious look no longer sure what to say he took the whip gently from Daenery's hand. Staring entranced at the silver handle as the coiled leather felt smooth. Finally, he spoke in a cautious tone.

“Khaleesi this is not done. It would shame me to be the blood rider to a woman, there is a khal that I would prefer to protect.” Dany paid no heed to his word but that did cut deep though, it took a lot to keep it from registering on her face.

“I have my ko the three men that stand over there, my Khalessi will rule and she will need men who are loyal to her and only her. You will accept it once you see.” Aegon spoke in a cool voice as Enyo smiled.

She did not mind that Dany was her brother's Khalessi because she would be his queen. Once the dragons were hatched, they knew that they would have to keep the bloodline clean. She knew that she would one day marry her brother and at one point she did not like the prospect but now that was maturing it was the only thing that she could think about.

Now as he stood before the pyre a vision of strength and power all she could think about doing was mounting him and she knew that she was not the only one. Dany had that same lustful look on her face as she saw the way that not only did Aegon defend her, but he seemed more than willing to be with her.

Next, the three turned to the blood rider Aggo, almond-shaped brown eyes looked to be shining in the moonlight as Daenerys spoke once more in a commanding tone.

“Aggo! To you, I give the dragon bone bow that was my bride gift” It is a double-curved shiny black bow that is taller than Daenerys was.

“I name you ko, and ask your oath, that you will live and die as the blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm” He took the bow but lowered his eyes in shame though he didn't dare speak the pinning glare of Aegon kept him from doing so.

Finally, they turned to Rakharo, “Rakharo, you shall have the great arkah that was my bride's gift with a hilt and blade chased in gold. And I name you ko, and ask your oath, that you will live and die as the blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm” Daenerys spoke in a cool voice.

Once he took the bow, he nodded his head firmly, Aegon turned to ser Jorah nodding his head firmly.

“Ser Jorah I name you a member of the kings guard my guard, set the pyre ablaze,” Aegon spoke in a cool voice as he turned to his father.

There was a weak smile pulling at his lisp as he looked at his parents.

“This will all make sense in a little while; I promise and with your permission, I want to take both Enyo and Daenerys as my wives.” It was all that Aegon said as they turned to look at the flames. They watched the wood set ablaze.

The orange flames leaped as smoke billowed into their eyes, after the fire was raging on in full force only then did, they walk into the flames. Lyanna had a shrill scream that echoed in the air as she fought against the grip of the Dothraki. They simply watched as if they knew that their Khal and Khalessi, and the princess walked into the fire.

Many expected to hear them screaming in utter agony, but only the warmth of the flames and the shocked gasps of people filled their ears. Men loomed around the pyre, their eyes wide with doubt and fear. The bright blue sky was now turned to white as the scent of burning flesh and the sharp pops of wood filled nose and ears alike. 

The warmth of the pyre slammed against me as the orange flickering flames began to shift. First to a dangerous black, then crimson red, purple, silver, green, cream, and gold. The scent of salt and fish filled the air worsening the stench of burning flesh.

Many looked up to see the thick blankets of smoke that choked out the sight of the orange sky. Whispers of awe began to rise as loud shrieks began to fill the air. As the fire began to die down, and the thick black smoke faded away, the scent of death slammed against many the shrill screams of Lyanna came to an end.

Many expected to smell the burning flesh, but instead, they all watched as the two women and who had walked recklessly into the fire, emerged from the remnants of the pyre unscathed. The plump budding breasts of Dany and Enyo were the first thing that men noticed. The handmaiden rushed to their side with clothes at the ready for the three of them.

The golden and creamy skin was tinged with black but other than that they were unblemished from the flames. But it was the heat that simmered in her deep violet eyes and bright smoke gray eyes was locked on everyone.

Aegon was the next one to walk out the fire unscathed, his indigo eyes flickering with crimson flames as loud screeches echoed loudly in the air. The air stilled as doubt fluttered across all their faces. Rhaegar and Lyanna could barely process what they were seeding; all the others dropped down to the ground as one baby dragon became 3 then 6.

A beast of black, with wings, spikes, and spinal plating of crimson, possessing molten red eyes that burned with hate stared back at them. He puffed out his chest as a mighty screech filled the air, his wings buffeting against the air and his radiant scales glimmered in the morning light as whispers of awe and desire filled his ears.

He sat on the shoulder of Daenerys while in either arm were two baby dragons one of jade with bronze accents the other began a pale cream color with golden accents. All of them were scales and wings no larger than the size of the cat.

Men all around began to lower down to one knee as they bowed their heads, unworthy of the sight, while maidens stood frozen in place. All eyes were drawn to the black beast that rested on her shoulder.

Resting in the arms of Enyo were two dragons, one a poisonous purple with murderous venomous green eyes that were glimmering in the light. While the other dragon was a radiant silver dragon with sweet and kind eyes and a long tail that wrapped around her arm. But the moment that the dragon looked at Meleys something flashed against her face and she knew that this dragon was her.

A slice echoed over the whole clearing as they watched three Targaryens emerge from the fire with dragons with them for the first time in a long time. The screeches of dragons echo loudly at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave tons of comments on what you think the dragon's names should be after all there is no reason for them to be name Drogon, Rhaegal, and Visersion


	17. West Vs East

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys let me know do you guys think that I could name Dany's dragons the same names as in the book and show. Let me know the next Targaryen chapter is up soon so let me know what you guys think before I upload it

Maegor Blackfyre II

Maegor watched as two-men cloaked in shadows rode over to the boat, one a large lean man with intense piercing brown eyes met Aegon's violet stare. Stern and cold with what looked to be a hint of anxiety. He knew that Maegor was not only not his nephew, but by the dangerous twinkle in his eyes, he knew his proper name as well. 

He knew that he was named after one of the greatest terrors or the Targaryen dynasty, a dragon lord that was able to tame and ride Balerion into battle, a distinction that only one other had. The conqueror himself. People heard Maegor and thought about the terror that he unleashed; anyone named after him would be considered a monster rather than a hero. 

Oberyn loved his sister so much that he would do anything even side with Maegor, and with Rhaegar being alive, they would not see him as the prince overpowered by the knights and forced to leave the country. Instead, Oberyn saw him as a coward who ran and did not even think to return for his children and wife. 

The other man Maegor knew well was a dear friend of his father, and the only reason this plan came to be, Lord Varys. Jon was walking across the deck; there was a stern look in his own bright blue eyes locked on the two men that were making their way over to us. The last time that he had seen Oberyn had to be the day of his best friend's wedding. 

Oberyn told him that he could love Rhaegar all he wanted, but he had to do it from afar and that if he ever did touch him, he would lose his hands. 

"Egg, before they get here, you got a letter from Magister Illyrio." His voice was worried, if not cautious. 

Maegor's heart thumped with excitement as he noticed the three-headed dragon stamps as Jon handed it over to him, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what the letter might say. Marrying Daenerys to the Dothraki will make her son or daughter half breed trash and make her a target when Robert found out. Viserys would not be far behind her, then there would only be a few other Targaryens to deal with. 

His mind race, maybe the Targaryens found them, and it was too late that they got there before the marriage could be done with. Was it the dragon eggs? There were so many questions running through his mind, and only answers would provide any kind of relief. 

After a long moment, his finger fumbled over the wax seal until it was ripped from the red ribbon. When he opened the paper, he was not as nearly as prepared as he thought that he might be. After all this time, he would finally get a chance to fight for his throne. 

_ "My dear Maegor, things have changed, and I don't know how much time I have before they start to wonder where I am. You need to head to Volantis and win over the golden company from there, go West, and get Dorne to side with you. The plan failed; the Targaryen from Ebonhead met up with the beggar prince and the Stormborn princess. They have killed Khal Drogo, and now Khalessi Daenerys and Khal Aegon rule over the 10,000 Dothraki screamers. Their next move is to go to Volantis and get there first and quickly. Remember, Jon must not know, _ " It took Maegor a few moments to desire the words of his father. 

He looked on with confusion as he looked over to Jon, letting out a heavy sigh as he shook his head heavily as he had just gotten bad news. They have slowly been making their way over to Volantis for a while, and we are only a few days out from the journey. With a heavy heart and a weary sigh, he could only hope that his father made it out of that den of Targaryens with his life and with hatched dragons. 

"Set a course for Volantis. We must get there and quickly; Robert has sent more assassins. They are leaving Pentos and are on their way here. We have to get the men ready once I speak with Oberyn, we will leave for Volantis," Maegor spoke in a cold voice. 

His mind was blank as he rubbed his jaw mournfully, so not only did the plan go to shit, but they linked up and now have an army at their back. Though this could be a good thing, you do not need an army to kill 6 Targaryens. He only needs one person and some poison. 

Jon, on the other hand, looked disturbed as he nodded his head heavily and made his way below deck to alert the rest of the men. His eyes were locked on the ground, but Maegor could see the way that his mind was rushing with what they would do next. He is a man grown by law, but that did not mean that Jon wanted him to take the throne early. But this was not his choice, and no one would stand in their way. 

"What was that about?' Varys spoke in a questioning voice. 

His dark-colored eyes were locked on Maegor as he noticed the distress that was fluttering over his face as he studied every inch of Maegor's face. Detecting his tense posture and how his eyes were scanning the horizon like someone was coming for him, so he must have known that whatever was in the letter was no good. 

Oberyn watched the two interactions as Maegor did much of the same, looking up and down the lithe man's form as he spoke, not taking his eyes off the man that he would have to pretend was his uncle if things went according to plan. 

"Rhaegar made it to Pentos, Aegon killed the khal and took over his horde, their next move is to come to get the golden company. We are moving to Volantis after this, so we must babble for Jon to come back." Maegor spoke in a quicken voice. 

Finally, letting his eyes flicker to Varys, who at this shock looked on his face as his brows shot up, there was darkness fluttering across his face. Maegor knew that something was going on in that effeminate man. His eyes were scanning the deck like he was getting ready to plan the next couple of moves. 

Obery, on the other hand, spoke in a smooth voice, "If your father heard about the Targaryens, it's safe to assume that sooner or later the king will find out as well. The last thing we heard before we got here was that he and his people were making their way south after spending a few days in the North. They split off the children and inheritors of Winterfell, which is smart. One went to the Vale, two stayed in the North, and three went south. As well as the lady of Winterfell. Benjen stark was left in charge of the North. They were planning for war even before we left. Rhaegar made my family a target. Do you believe that you can get the Golden company to side with you? They have never broken a contract, and right now, they have a contract with Volantis. Would they break it for you?" Oberyn spoke in a singing voice. 

His eyes scanned the young face prince as Maegor looked right back, rubbing his head warily as he spoke, "A lot of them were exiled because they picked the Targaryen side; they chose exile over serving Robert. If they were that loyal to Rhaegar, what do you think that they will do when they hear his only living heir comes asking for their help? They would be hard-pressed to say no, and with Jon, at my side, they would have no reason to doubt me." Maegor spoke in a calm voice as he looked to Oberyn. 

He was so sure and firm in his convent that Oberyn couldn't help but believe him; this was his best-case if they wanted to make the Targaryens and the Baratheon pay for what they have done to his family. 

"You must speak with my brother, but if he abides by this plan, you will have the men of the golden company plus all the spears of Dorne have. But we must act quickly. The dragons are dead men winning wars now, not magic tricks, and the one with the biggest army and the most riches and experience will win. This is a race, and we must win; when you play the game of thrones, you either win, or you die." Oberyn spoke in a calm voice. 

Each of them stood in silence for who knew how long when finally, Jon came back with an urgent look on his face as he spoke. 

"The ship is ready. Are we still going to Volantis?" Jon questioned as he walked over 

Not once looking at Oberyn as he did so know that he might have a look of rage on his face if he did look at him. Instead, he turned his attention to Maegor, who gave him a pleasant smile as he spoke with all the false joy that he could muster. 

While he was happy that he was one more step to securing a kingdom in the West, he couldn't help but think that with all these moves, he might get attention drawn to him from both the Targaryens and the king in the West. 

"Yes, and then from there, we are going to see Uncle Doran rallying support to our cause. Dornish spears," Maegor spoke in an enthused voice, but that never made it to his face. 

He could only imagine what was going on in the West. 

Ned Ⅳ

The thought repeatedly played in his mind. His youngest son's bright red face streaked with tears as he was sent to the Vale. Ned had to hold Catelyn in place as she fought against his hold in the hopes of reaching her crying son. To say that it did not end well would have been an understatement. Now here he sat with Robert dreaming as the men fixed yet another broken wheel of the carriage.

Sansa and Arya were with their mother doing their lesson with their mother while Bran was training with Ser Jory. The bright green verdant valley stared back at Ned; he felt at ease as he looked up to the bright blue sky. An ominous red streak was rushing against the sky; it was the same comet that flew across the sky the day that prince Aegon was born.

Only this time, there was a dragon head at the front of the comet; it felt across the sky and had been there since last night. It made Ned think about the Targaryens; they once rode dragons, but the dragons were long dead, but this comet made him panic. Taking in a deep breath to clear away his scattered thoughts, but he could remember the look on his brother's face.

The doubt in his eyes when he asked if it would be possible if other people thought to be dead could be alive. Ned knew what he was hinting at even if he did not say it out loud; he knew that Benjen was hinting at Lyanna being alive. After all, they never found her body. There could be a chance that he was, in fact, alive. 

Doubt filled in his heart and mind. There was a small part of him that thought that Lyanna might be alive, but he knew better. That it was a child's dream and not one that he was likely to believe. If his little brother wanted to live in a world of delusion, that was his choice if he taught Robb what he needed to teach him and quickly. There was no telling how long it would be until the Targaryens made their way here.

"There was a rider in the night. Daenerys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horse lord" Robert's husky voice filled the air.

Ripping Ned from his clutter of thoughts of the family to look at one of the last brothers that he had left, a darkness flutter across his face as he noticed a spark of madness filling his eyes. The same spark of madness appeared in his stare the day that the Targaryen children were killed and laid at his feet.

Worry etched its way into Ned's chest; as he thought about what Robert might do to the child, he felt pity for the girl. She was not the one that murdered his sister. He knew that, but that did not stop the rage from rising in his heart as bile built in the back of his throat and wicked thoughts filled his head.

"What of it? Do we send her a wedding gift?" A dark glint of humor echoed in Ned's voice.

He was more interested in where Rhaegar was. His spies could still not locate them; the messengers from the east were having a harder and harder time reporting since they left the North. Robert thinks that someone is interfering, so how could they know for sure if this news that they were getting was right or if it were someone feeding them false information? They would be none the wiser until it was too late.

"A knife perhaps, a good, sharp one, and a bold man to wield it," Robert spoke casually as he shrugged his shoulder.

As if killing children was commonplace to him, it was one thing to kill a grown man or woman that placed a threat to the realm but a 13-year-old girl. Could Ned look into her wide innocent violet eyes and snuffed out her life for the name of his king. His heart thunder with trepidation, thinking that was where he was planning on taking this.

"She's little more than a child," Ned spoke in a sure voice.

When he saw that this was not getting him anywhere, we spoke again, this time in a calm voice.

"How did you come by this information anyway." Need question doubt filling his mind.

It was hard to believe that if there were Targaryen spies intercepting messages that they would let such a huge message pass them by. They would have blocked for all they knew. This was a bright lie to through them off the scent of the true princess. As the report of a silver hair girl in Bond head, there were also reports in the east.

Robert rolled his eyes like his spies would not be that sloppy a second time around, but in case he forgot, it was Varys that was still loyal to the Targaryen to the very end. The only reason that he is alive is because of the information that he can collect, and suddenly, he cannot seem to find any trace of them, yeah, right.

"One of Varys street kids in Pentos, the last he reported it was the day of the wedding it was just after the ceremony since then it has been silent in the east. But soon enough, that child will spread her legs and start breeding." Robert slammed his fist against the table.

Outrage bloomed in the man's bright blue eyes as he leered at his best friend; venom flooded his mind as he thought of the man that killed the women that he loved. Venomous rage threatens to take over every rational part of Robert's wrath.

Ned was just as outraged that Rhaegar was alive, and he was looking forward to meeting him on the battlefield. Brandon was born to be a leader; Ned was raised to be a soldier, Rhaegar was not and would lose even to him. A sneer pulled at his lips at the thought of the man that took everything from him.

But his baby sister, who wasn't born until after Robert had won the throne and her family was long since dead she had no part in the war, and Ned would not have any interest in a child's murder, not unless she did something that but the realm in danger.

"Tell me we're not speaking of this." Ned's voice was horrified

Robert simply rolled his eyes like Ned should be used to this by now, but how they could ever be used to kill children's silver hair and violet eyes or not. They were still people. No matter how many times that the Targaryen called themselves dragons, but they were people, and they could no indiscriminately murder someone because of her looks and last name.

"Oh, it's unspeakable to you. What her father did to your family that was unspeakable. What Rhaegar Targaryen did to your sister, the woman I loved. I will kill every Targaryen I get my hands on. I will kill her, her brothers, and if Rhaegar managed to get a new wife and have kids with her, then I will kill them too!!!" Robert roared with fury.

Robert's eyes were flaming with that madness as he stood up; Ned looked past his shoulder to see Jamie standing firmly at his back; Ned could hear the barking of Dire wolves as they rushed through the forest catching their prey.

Ned knew that he was not wrong, but there was no reason for them to kill children or to even tortured them, but would he ever listen to that.

"But you cannot get your hands on this one, can you. We should be focusing on Rhaegar. Did we find out where they had been hiding out until this moment?" Confusion echoed in Ned's voice as he spoke in a calm voice.

He wanted to know what was going on with Rhaegar if he had to go east to kill him if that was what he had to do, but he knew it would be better than letting him cross the narrow sea and stir up trouble. They were better off killing them before the seven kingdoms started to revolt for the Targaryens.

The Martells and the Tyrells have a sorted history with the Targaryen, and her crown lands never wanted Robert as their king. He knew that the kingdom would be torn apart if the Targaryen landed here. They were better off killing the rebellion while it still rested in their crib.

"We haven't heard much about them. By the time that we got back, I was going to have Ser Barristan. There was no way that he did not know that his king and brothers of the order left; I bet the plan went wrong. I am sure that he and Martell were supposed to make it back to wherever the king was hiding out at. After he tells me, then I will take his head."

At this, Ned was shocked. Ser Barristan was the enemy at one point, but he bent the knee. He could have chosen the death of exile, but instead, he turned the knee. He decided to serve Robert. At least that was his line of thinking. But as he sat there, he realized that there might be another purpose for his loyalty so that he could spy on them for the Targaryens. That thought alone force rage to well deep in his heart as he sneered.

"Even if he is a spy, we are better off questioning him then letting him go; he might lead us to the Targaryen bastard. There is no way that after 14 years, he would sell out his king. He is not that weak. There is no one nobler and bull-headed then Ser Barristan the bold, and if you kill him, the whole realm will be up in arms. Everyone knows him; he is a hero to many; there is no knight as famous as Arthur Dayne. If you kill him, you make him a martyr to all those that support the Targaryens. Be smart about this question, and then keep him close. Have Varys watch his every movement sooner or later. He will have to lead us to Rhaegar, and in the meantime, we will have time to join our house and prepare for war. If we act rashly, then we will be the only ones dying today." Ned's words were wise and safe.

He could see how his mind fumble with the idea to show mercy in the hopes of being far more brutal in the future, and for a moment, it worked. Jamie let out a heavy sigh looking at his fool or a king. He knew that this was the best way to prolong their lives while also gaining information. There was no one more terrified that Rhaegar might still be alive.

After all, not only did he kill Rhaegar's father, but he also stood by and let his father men raped his wife, slaughter his children and then hunt his siblings down like they were nothing more than dogs. They were all taking a significant risk simply sitting here, let alone to go after a pivotal member of the resistance seen as a hero throughout the West. It would be a death sentence for all involved. The Baratheon fury is well known, by the Targaryen madness travels throughout 100s of years starting with Maegor the cruel.

They would be foolish to act rashly, or they might end up like Aeon the unworthy.

"Very well, we will try your plan first, but if the plan does not bear fruit within the first year, I will cut off his head and have it sent to the east for the Targaryens to find." Robert's voice was cruel and ruthless.

Ned was no less angry than him, but that didn't mean that he would savagely murder without forethought. But one thing is for sure they would be at the capital within a fortnight, and they would begin their plans to end the Targaryen line. Ned did not care what happened to all those that sided with the people that slaughtered his family would die. 


	18. No One Gets In Our Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one of the day enjoy and leave lots of comments, I do take your opinion and idea into account when I right these chapters

Rhaegar Ⅳ

The outrage was not the word Rhaegar would call it; a murderous inferno was raging in his chest as he sneered at his son, who now was paying him no mind. His fingers were running tenderly along with the small blocky crimson head of the baby dragon. Rhaegar still could not believe it was a real dragon. 

But the methods in which he got them forced an imaginable horror as he watched his only son walk into the fire and to think that he might die to believe that he lost his only boy. Terrified but not as much as watching his son pull his little sister and his daughter into the fire with him. 

“What were you thinking!! I do not care if it was a joint plan. You should not have done it. What would have happened if you didn't make it out for that fire.” Rhaegar pinched the bridge of his nose. 

He was talking back and forth, his shoulder tense and a panic swallowing him as he looked at his son, the moon was rising high into the sky, and the smoke was long since gone. The Dothraki were making camp just outside the walls of the villa. His mind could barely think straight as he looked at his son with a mix of wonder and hatred. 

Lyanna was rubbing her brows as her other hand ran loving between the thick snow-white curls of the young prince. Her lips are trembling in panic and terror as she thought that she still might lose her son if she did not keep a close eye on him. 

“But I did father, and it was Enyo’s idea….” Aegon was cut off by the very sister he was selling out. 

“Yeah, but it was Egg’s and Dany’s idea to hatch the eggs using the dead bodies” Enyo was all but whining as she glared at her brother.

Enyo walked into the room in a long black sheer nightgown as a poisonous purple dragon rested on her shoulder, and another dragon was resting in her hand, a dazzling dragon that was radiant and silver. Her diligent and sweet eyes were locked on the young princess sitting at the opposite end of the table. 

Her gentle indigo eyes were locked on the silver dragon when it came into the room; a small smile pulled at her lips as she held a firm hand out. She was silently demanding the baby dragon from the egg that Enyo stole from her when she was not spying attention. 

Rhaegar watched the dragon with intrigue as her long coiling neck whipped around, looking at all the Targaryens before letting her eyes settle on the young princess. With a clap of her wings and a surprised screech, she jumped down on the table. Her shimmering thin skin wings with little claws kept her propped up herself up, padding over to Meleys. 

Claws scraped against the marble table as she was standing before Meleys, watching for her to touch her; at first, Meleys eyes were nervous as they shifted from the dragon to her brother. Who was freely petting his dragon on the top of his head? 

When she shifted to look at her twin sister, her dark poisonous purple dragon, and bright venomous green eyes were letting out soft purrs as black smoke left her nostrils as Enyo scratched beneath her shin. 

Studying their easy appearance, Meleys just went for it, running her finger along the middle of the scaly dragon head; the smoothness of the scales and the incredible warmth forces a warm smile to pull at her lips as she let out a surprised giggle. 

“I don't care who planned it. I care that you did it!! That is all that matters!! You order those Dothraki to hold us down so that you could walk into the fire. You are children, and you cannot make these decisions without consulting us. You might be a man grown in the year, but that doesn't mean that you can do as you please.” Rhaegar's voice oozed with vehement rage. 

His shoulders shook as he looked down at his son, who did not look the least bit interested in what his father had to say. Instead, his indigo eyes were locked on the young crimson dragon whose blocky head was warm and gentle to the touch. His little horns were still dull and soft. His curious crimson eyes could be playful one minute and murderous the next much like the rider he had started to bond with. 

Enyo was no different; she had a warm smile on her face as her stormy eyes were lit up with joy; her eyes were so light that they were sparkling. Her poisonous purple dragon greeted the king as her smooth venomous green eyes were silt and locked on Rhaegar like they were trying to figure out if he was friend or foe. He was sure that with his murderous rage, the dragon was not sure if she should trust him. 

“If we told you, would you have let us walk into the fire? You saw firsthand father's madness. Would you have believed us or thought us mad as well?” Daenerys questioned as she made her way into the room. 

The ash that has streaked her skin was gone; a deep red nightgown with black lace covered her slim form as she walked into the room like she was standing on air. There was a change to her, and Rhaegar could see it like a fire had awoken in her when she walked into the flames when she watched Drogo slaughter and the only man that had been kind to her slaughter. 

Resting on her shoulder was a black dragon with red highlights. He looked like Balerion dread came again. There was the cream dragon with the golden highlight. His intuitive molten gold eyes were locked on Rhaegar, studying his form and deeming him unimportant, so he looked away, letting out a screech that got the attention of the silver dragon. 

They were the same size, and all looked the same aside from their varying color, but the most significant difference between all their dragons is their personalities. The jade dragon was startled, his bronze eyes filled with rage and murderous intent. He is the mirror image of Rhaegar's emotional state. 

His spiked tail was curled around Daenerys right arm as his wings buffet against the air and fury took hold of his little body. His eyes were locked on Rhaegar, and unlike the little cream dragon, he did not look away. After a long moment, he jumped onto the long round table that could hold 40 people. 

The jade dragon waddled across the table, his arms pushing his form as the wings were tucked his wings to his side as he sat on the tail, letting his tail uncurl as he stared up at Rhaegar with expectant eyes.

For a moment, the overwhelming rage began to crack, and for a slim moment, there was a warm smile on his face as he sat down. He was running his fingers along with the shimmering green head with spikes. The warmth of his scaly skin forced a sense of ease to wash over Rhaegar like a consuming wave.

Bronze eyes scan every inch of his form. He ran a finger under his scaly chin; the soft purrs that filled his ears helped to calm him. There was smoke billowing from his flaring nostrils as he looked over to his son, daughter, and then his sister. Violet eyes, calm indigo, and smoke gray. All of them were filled with love, and none of them thought about what they did. If they died, he could not tell if they felt guilty about it. 

“You didn't want to tell us! That is an excuse! I am your king and your father what I say go; your mother thought you two were dead and you! We just got here, and you were willing to throw away your life and happiness on what a magical dream.” Rhaegar spoke with fury 

He was not mad, not really; he was hurt and filled with terror; after all, he nearly lost two of his children and his sister all in one day. He was terrified that their reckless actions lacked any for thought, and it worried him. That one day, they would do something without thinking, and it would end in their deaths. 

“It was more than that father, and while you might be my king, I'm a Khal. I won my position; I was not born into it or given to it. I am nearly a grown man, and while I love and respect you, it is my time to lead. I cannot learn if you will not let me gain experience if I must ask you permission each time I want to make a move. If I had asked you to walk into the fire, would you have said yes?” Aegon spoke in a calm voice. 

He wasn't disrespectful in his tone, but his words didn't help much; Arthur was standing by the door, hiding a smile as he replied this was the same way that Rhaegar used to act when he was a child.

Lyanna was staring at her son with silent acceptance. She knew that one day he would stop being the sweet, carefree boy that she knew that he would mature into a warrior and a leader. She knew that day came when he commanded his Dothraki to keep us out of the way. 

Rhaegar knew that his son was right, but that did not mean that he wanted to admit it; he took a heavy breath letting his mind settle as he looked over to his son. Bright indigo eyes were waiting for an answer as his lips were pulled into a grim and tight line. He could see the wheels turning in the back of his son's eyes as his snow-white curls framed his face. His face still had light streaks of ash from the fire. 

He did not make a show, not like his sister and aunt. Instead, he watched Illyrio for a moment before he whispered something to one of the blood riders. Ser Jorah and the blood riders had not been seen since. 

“I wouldn't have let you walk into the fire,” Rhaegar spoke in a cold voice. 

There was tension in the air. A wonder was born into the world, and while he was happy that he would not lose his children for that. At one point, he had been obsessed with the song of ice and fire, and now he just wanted his children safe and happy. He would have been content with staying on the island in seclusion if it meant that his kids were happy, but he knew to hide, and living a lie was not any way for anyone to live. 

“Exactly then we wouldn't have dragons, I'm not Viserys; there is no one back in Westeros sewing dragon banners; they are not making silent toast, they are sharpening their knives and waiting for their king to launch an attack. If we did not go into that fire, we would be eastern savages with Dothraki at our back. But with dragons, we have a great chance of surviving or winning the war. We lost our dragons; they kept us in power when they died, we managed to keep in power. But thanks to Grandfather's madness and your and mother's choice, we lost the throne. If we still had the dragon, that never would have happened. Now we have dragons, we cannot lose them again, and we cannot win this war without them. Which means getting rid of all of our enemies.” Aegon spoke in a cold voice. 

There was a sneer on his face as he leaned back in his chair, letting his fingers fall from the blocky square head of the crimson skull. His little head cocked to the side as he let out an outraged screech as if Aegon dared stop petting him. Both their cunning piercing stares were locked on the door that was beginning to open. 

When the doors slowly began to open, Rhaegar watched as Ser Jorah, the first knight, added to the king guards in 14 years. His cold eyes locked on Aegon when he saw his Khal, walking in behind him were the three Dothraki blood riders.

The older man, given the bow, held a dead raven with an arrow stuck out of the bird's chests while the other two blood riders had a large fat man with sweat dripping down his brown as terror flashed in his eyes. 

The baby dragon roared as he leered at the fat man as confusion echoed in Rhaegar's chest. 

What is going on? 

Jon III

_ After they walked out of the fire  _

The heat was all-consuming, flashing against Aegon's mind as he leered at the people around him; his eyes darted over to Ser Jorah, who had a pair of breeches and a shirt in his hands. He could hear the roar of his father hearing the fury in his voice. The Dothraki guards were forcing them back to the men as many others were setting up the camp. 

“Khal?” Ser Jorah spoke in a smooth voice. 

Aegon looked over his shoulder to see him holding out his hands as he looked at the baby dragon resting on his shoulder. He was a bundle of warmth burning into the skin of the prince. His claws were ripping at this tender golden-brown skin. His fingers were gripping tightly to the clothes, carefully pulling his pants on as he looked over to Illyrio. 

The large fat man seemed to be running, or his version of it at the very least; there was a panic and excited look on his face as he started to make his way over to Manse. Pushing past Dothraki and house guards alike, there was a sense of urgency swirling around him as he looked over his shoulder like he was making sure that there was no one looking at him. 

But form is an obscured spot on the beach. Aegon saw everything as he leered at the fat man as he looked over to his newly appointed blood riders. 

“Aggo, take your bow and shoot down any blackbirds that you see leaving, then bring them to me. Ser Jorah is ready to apprehend that man at a moment's notice.” Aegon spoke, and they did as they are told. 

The older Ko didn't think twice about it. He left as the remaining two blood riders rushed over to be at their Khaleesi side. All the doubt and worry that flooded their face when she named them Ko were gone. She had three dragons on her body and an air of power that not even they could deny. 

“You think that there is something suspicious about Illyrio, and you are right to think that. I had heard whispers and the villa before you got here. Whispers about movements in the west and stray dragon lords, and I could have sworn I heard the name, Jon.” Ser Jorah spoke in a cold voice. 

Aegon's mind was whirling, his false name was Jon, but that did not mean that Illyrio was talking about him, and that did not mean that it could not have been someone they knew. Who could be the stray dragon lord that they were talking about? Doubt whirled in his mind as he struggled to think straight about what it might be. 

With long confident strides, Aegon began to move among the camp ignoring the looks that he was getting from the Dothraki that looked at him as God. Ser Jorah was moving at him. Walking behind him as Aegon carefully moved the little red dragon from his shoulder. Much to the dismay of the dragon. 

“Ser Jorah can hold him so I can put on my shirt” There was a warm smile on Aegon’s face. 

The little dragon looked outraged that he would ask this lowly knight to hold him; Aegon chuckled as he rubbed a finger under his baby dragon's chin before handing him off to a Ser Jorah. Aegon had no fear that the older man would steal his dragon after all; if he tried, anyone of the 10,000 Dothraki would have killed him before he could make it out of the camp. 

They were making their way to the largest of all the tenets that belonged to the Khal and the Khalessi. After taking in a long moment of silence, Aegon spoke as the fabric brushed against his skin and over his hair. 

“I knew that he knew about us, but what could he know about Jon is beyond me? I am sure that he was talking about Jon Cognition in Volantis. This means that he has something in the works, and I do not trust it. He rushed off that beach as his life depended on it, instead of staring at the wonders of dragons. He gave Dany those eggs, and he was not the least bit interested in how they hatched. Instead, he is rushing back to the villa like he was doing something important. I think that he is sending letters to someone telling them about the dragons. I need to make sure that we keep them a secret. Robert would kill them and us in our sleep. Some other fool would try to steal them and use them as weapons. We must be careful. We wouldn't want Ares getting into the wrong hands.” Aegon spoke in a calm voice. 

There was a sense of love and joy that fluttered across his face as he looked at the little red dragon that let out a joyous and proud screech at his new name. His childlike eyes were locked on Aegon as he chuckled gently, pulling him from Ser Jorah’s with a small, confused look on his face. 

“Ares?” Ser Jorah questioned. 

At this Aegon smile as his bright indigo eyes were filled with love, his eyes were shifted to the baby dragon sitting in his palm. His head was cocked to the side in confusion, trying to figure out why they were calling his name so many times. 

The more massive horse leather tent was staring back at Aegon, his smooth brown and tan leather glimmering in the ethereal glow of silver moonlight. Bathing the whole came in a halo of light as Aegon’s feet glided smoothly against the grass. 

The scent of burning flesh filled his nose as he looked over to the side to see that there were women cooking horse meat over the crackling bright red fire flickering against the smooth brown wood. The flames leaped and danced as shadows moved against the tents nearest the fire; black smoke danced upwards. 

“Ares was the name of the gods of war, blood lust, vengeance, and the father of dragons. There was this crazy guy on Ebon's head who said that he was from a place so far east that we did not even know about it. After a bad storm, he ended up getting stranded here in Essos, he told me a great many stories about the gods, but his stories about Ares stuck with me. To him, I was just Jon, not some exiled prince with a name that goes back 300 years. I was normal, and that story stuck with me, so Ares he is. A memory of a simpler time” A warm and sullen smile stretched across the prince’s lips.

They were in the tent before either of them spoke again. There was a warm silence between the north men and the young prince. He always wanted to see the North, and one of these days, he would but how many years before that happened. His mind whirled around and around as he collapsed on the smooth horse leather and fur riddle bed. Ares let out an outraged roar that screams, give me food. 

Aegon couldn't help but laugh like he knew exactly what the little guy wanted, “Ser Jorah, when that horse meat is done cooking, bring in a few chunks of Ares. Dragons are the only other creature besides a man that eats their meat cooked. That was what my father always said. I guess that it might be true, isn't that right.” Aegon joked as he scratched under his chin. 

His warmth did not over bother him like he might have thought it would; it was dull, not as searing as he would have thought. Ser Jorah simply nodded his head and made his way out of the tent as he collapsed on his bed. Aegon thought about what might be going on. Did his family in the west never truly consider that maybe just maybe there was a chance that his mother had lived. 

Did they take a puddle of blood as a sign of her death? Could they be that naive? Confusion and doubt began to eat away at him as Ares let out soft purrs as he cuddled next to Aegon.

Curling his tail around his little scaly body, his elongate coiling curled tightly against Aegon's left arm. Both were drifting to sleep; they might have been there a few minutes or even a few hours. It had been a long day, and time had lost all meaning; the fur was so soft that for Aegon, it felt like he was sleeping on a cloud. 

The rise and fall of his chest were steady and slow as he breathed deeply. With each breath he took, he fell into a deeper sleep, his body turning into a lead weight refusing to move as he sunk further into a sea of exhaustion. 

Just when he thought that he would fall asleep, a guttural and savage langue flooded his head as a husky and deep voice rumbled through the air. 

“Khal, I shot down two blackbirds,” Aggo spoke in a sure and booming voice. 

The words alone force the prince's eyes to snap open in a manic and quick motion. His heart began to boom with excitement, and his mind that was once heavy and weary would now fade away. His hands were shaking in anticipation, and the wheels that had once slowed in his mind were now turning even faster than before. 

He wanted to know Illyrio had planned, and if the fat fool did not tell him to save his own life, he would find out on his own. 

“Yeah, Khal, what is there to know?” Enyo sultry voice filled Aegon's ears.

Using the back of his arms, he propped himself up on the bed, forcing the scaly baby on his chest to stumble down off his chest. In his deep passing sleep, Aegon did not even notice that the warmth that had once been circling his arm had moved to his chest.

Outrage hisses were echoing off his scale lips as he bit Aegon's thigh as he fell. Baby black teeth and the scent of sulfur flooded Aegon’s nose as he chuckled as if the small black teeth meant nothing to him. 

“Easy there, Ares. You didn’t warn me that you were on my chest, so when you think about it is your fault.” Aegon joked with the baby dragon as Ares gave Aegon annoying red eyes as if two siblings were arguing. 

It forced a light smile to pull at Enyo’s lips as she watched her brother and soon to be husband and Khal arguing with a baby dragon. Aggo was waiting patiently next to the princess's side; both had expectant glares locked in the prince as finally he looked up to Aggo almond-shaped eyes with obsidian eyes were closed on the prince.

In either of his hands were two birds. Both had arrows sticking out of their chest. The black feather was already starting to lose the luster of their feather. Their black peaks were parts as wide black eyes were filled with terror when they knew that they were dead, their faces frozen in their final moments.

Wrapped on either one of their ankles were smaller rolled-up brown parchment tied to their ankle with a red ribbon. He knew that Illyrio could not be trusted, but that did not mean that this letter was exclusively about him, and even if they were, he did not know where they were going. Taking in a deep breath, his chest began to expand as he took in a deep breath. 

“Give me the bird to the left first,” Aegon spoke in a smooth voice. 

Enyo moved further into the tent as another person walked into the tent. She and Daenerys had three dragons on her person to add to the tent. Both smiled smugly at Aegon, and he spoke in a quick voice. 

“What are the two of you doing here?” Aegon spoke in a questioning voice. 

He lifted his hand, taking the dead bird from Aggo, feeling the smooth feeling of the feathers as they began to loosen from their wing arms as his finger brushed against the rough scale claws of the bride as his dark eyes stared into the depth of his soul even though his eyes were dead and soulless. 

“We saw the way that Illyrio was rushing up the steps the same as you; then we saw Aggo rushing after him in the dark and you making your way over to the Dothraki camp, and we thought…..” Daenerys shrugged her shoulders casually instead of speaking, leaving Enyo to finish it off. 

“Why let you have all the fun father thinks that we are taking a bath, and we will after we see what you got cooking behind the scenes. You think that you can plot and plan and leave us out of it,” Enyo spoke in a calm voice. 

Her poisonous purple dragon let out a screech. Her venomous green eyes were locked on Aegon, saying that you cannot leave us out. The silver dragon with diligent eyes and a slimmer figure was curled contently around Enyo’s arm. Aegon knew that sooner or later, they would have to give the Silver dragon to Meleys. 

Of course, Aegon had no problem with it, but he knew that he was in for an ear full when he went back to the villa. He knew that Meleys would have a problem with how he went about taking the egg, let alone make it hatch. His father would be furious, and the other would be around the same. When it was quiet, he could still hear his mother, shrill screams as he stood in the inferno. 

He shook his head heavily as he looked down at the first paper. Taking in a heavy breath as he spoke, he began to unroll the paper with careful hands. “I was not trying to leave you out; I would have told you what I had found. Where are Jhogo and Rakharo?” Aegon questioned. 

He looked over the paper as Dany moved to sit at his left side, her three baby dragons jumping into Aegon's lap, forcing him to laugh as the four baby dragons nipped at each other playfully. The purple dragon screeched angrily to be let out, but the silver dragon simply rolled her eyes like they were acting like a bunch of boys. 

Aegon paid them no mind as Enyo made her way over to Aegon's right side as each one of them stared at the message in utter confusion. 

“What the hell is this?” Enyo’s brows were scrunched up in utter confusion. 

Each took a turn looking over the appearance, but to them, it seemed like a bunch of random letters and numbers written on the paper. 

“ _ ABCDTHESMXBCETARGARYENSYOUXSWXYHATCHEDNMNQ123861354656MJDRAGONSTUX,GGTHEGFDHGAMEGHFINFHASIHEOFHASHEOIHCHANGEDFEHFIOHEOFEHCOMEEHIOEHFOIHEOHEOIQUICK”  _

Confusion filled Aegon as his brows began to furrow as he was forced to stare at the paper for what felt like an hour when Daenerys pointed to a few words in the segment. 

“Read it again,” Daenerys eyes were sparkling like she figured out the partner. She read the letter aloud, pointing to each segment as she did so. 

“ _ ABCD _ **THE** _ SMXBCE _ **TARGARYENS** _ YOUXSWXY _ **HATCHED** _ NMNQ1238 _ **6** _ 1354656MJ _ **DRAGONS** _ TUX,GGTHEGFDHGAMEGHFINFHASIHEOFHEOIHCHANGEDFEHFIOHEOFEHCOMEEHIOEHFOIHEOHEOIQUICK _ **_”_ **

“The Targaryens hatched six dragons. The game has a chance to come quickly, he is telling someone that we have hatched a dragon and that they have to come quickly but who?” Confusion echoed in Daenerys words. 

Aegon looked over the paper again, looking at each word carefully as he shrugged his shoulder with doubt and confusion. 

“I have no clue, but why send out two letters to the same person. Aggo, show me the other letter.” Aegon's words shifted from the common tongue to Dothraki in a matter of seconds. 

It didn't even require any real effort as he looked up from the words to see Aggo making his way over to his Khal, and Khalessi but the more that Aggo looked to Enyo, he knew that she was as much a Khalessi as the silver hair queen with violet eyes. His fingers were running against the smooth paper as he handed it off to the Khal. 

Only this message made any less sense then the first letter, “20 8 5 20 1 18 7 1 18 25 5 14 19 8 1 20 3 8 5 4 4 18 1 7 15 14 19 3 15 12 12 5 3 20 20 8 5 7 15 12 4 5 14 3 15 13 16 1 14 25 1 14 4 3 15 13 5 20 15 16 5 14 20 15 19 20 1 11 5 20 8 5 4 18 1 7 15 14 19 9 23 9 12 12 16 21 20 16 15 9 19 15 14 9 14 20 8 5 20 1 18 7 1 18 25 5 14 19 14 5 24 20 6 5 1 19 20 23 8 5 14 20 8 5 25 5 1 20 15 18 4 18 9 14 11 20 8 5 25 23 9 12 12 4 9 5 1 14 4 19 9 24 4 18 1 7 15 14 19 23 1 9 20 9 14 7 6 15 18 25 15 21 3 15 13 5 17 21 9 3 11” 

“Again, with this stupid little code!” Enyo let out an angry snarl. 

Her impatient smoke gray eyes turning a dark gray, almost black like the color as she sneered at the paper; her venomous purple dragon let out an annoyed hiss as she leered at the article. Black smoke puffed out her nose as she burped, and dazzling deep purple flames formed but luckily did not make it to the report. 

Aegon chuckled as he ran a gentle finger along with the purple dragon’s head, the smoothness of her purple scales the warmth of her heat. It felt like Aegon was meant to raise and train dragons. Sorrow began to fill his chest, knowing that if not for the foolishness of his ancestors, then he would have been raised surrounded by dragons this whole time.

Shaking his head, he looked down at the paper; they had been sitting there for an hour, not even sure how much time moved until Ser Jorah walked in with enough meat for all 6 of the dragons. The scent of cooked meat filled the air as all 6 square heads snapped up their wings, buffeting against the air as each of them let out impatient screeches. The baby dragons hopped down from the bed swirling around Jorah's feet as they let out expectant screeches. Their tails swished back and forth as their arms were holding up their tiny little scaly body in their long necks whipping back and forth as they waited for Ser Jorah to trip. 

Dany gave the sweet dragons a small smile as she oversaw Ser Jorah making his way into the room, making his way down to one knee as the dragons were nipping at the laces of his boots as they started to grow impatient. The moment that the silver platter resting with blackened meat with white steam billowing off them hit the good, the dragons went into a feeding frenzy. 

Crimson, purple, black, silver, green, cream were clashing, and three dragons came out on top; Ares, the purple dragon, and the black and red dragon let out furious screeches as they stole more meat than the others.

Enyo and Dany watched the dragons alone with Aggo, who seemed enthused by the murderous power that the Khal’s and Khalessi’s dragon had over the other three. Ser Jorah was staring at the dragon, careful to walk around the dragons. 

But Aegon's eyes were looking at the numbers as it finally made sense to him, “The numbers are letters, each number is a letter in the order that they appear in high Valyrian. The note reads…”

Aegon let his voice draw on as he took a moment to decipher the letter before speaking once more; the dragon was no longer interested in the paper since they could now eat. 

“The Targaryens hatched six dragons, collected the golden company, and came to Pentos to take the dragons. I will put poison in the Targaryens' next feast. When they eat or drink, they will die, and six dragons will be waiting for you. Come quick,” Aegon's voice was chilly. 

A murderous fury encircled the enter room; darkness fluttered across Aegon's face as Ares reflected his rage, letting out a shrill screech that would one day turn into a ferocious roar. The other dragons snapped their heads up as they fed off the popularity of the Targaryens. 

“Viserys, that fool, I told him that we couldn't trust Illyrio. But I'm just a stupid child, and he the crown prince.” Daenerys let out a huff before turning to sure Jorah and Aggo. 

“Blood of my blood gathers the fat man and brings him to the great hall,” Broken Dothraki rippled off Daenerys' voice. 

The moment that Dany spoke, Aggo nodded his head firmly, walking out of the tent as Aegon let out a heavy breath rubbing his brow wearily as he sneered. 

“You two should get a bath. I will meet you in the great hall. Ser Jorah grabs Blackfyre from my room. We will handle this problem right now. I want to know who he is talking to, and for his sake, he better be honest. No one is going to stand in our way of getting home.” Aegon rose from the bed with his two queens at his side. 

A fury flooded his body as he looked over to Ser Jorah, who simply nodded his head and walked out of the tent. Fire and Blood were coming from all the Targaryens enemies, and they would start with Illyrio. 


	19. The Head Less Wonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the only chapter of the day but it is a good one. some crazy things are going to start happening in the east and the west

Jon Ⅳ

Aegon watched the fat fuck walk into the room Aggo and Rakharo had one hand on him as they held another dead bird in their hand. This time, it had a new message resting on the dead birds’ leg. There was this overwhelming fury that flooded his chest as he did his best to keep his face calm as he leaned back into the chair. Most of the time, Aegon was an easy-going boy, but when his temper got up, there was no saving that had gotten his character up. 

Ares sat contently in front of Aegon, a murderous fury filling his silt red eyes were locked on the fat fuck as his bright spit cover lips were trembling as he looked to the young prince. Confusion filled his eyes as he turned to look at Enyo, who had a dangerous look on her face. Her eyes were narrowed and her gaze piercing and filled with blood lust. Her body still and cold as she leered at the man. 

Dany interlaces her fingers, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers as her piercing violet eyes are locked on Illyrio, much like Aegon and Enyo. Her nerve truly trusted Illyrio. She always thought that it was strange that they gave them so much. Now it made sense Illyrio was just trying to keep them in Pentos until whoever he was talking to came to collect them, and something tells Daenerys that the person in those letters was not their eldest brother. 

Bright brown eyes were shifted from the dragon to Rhaegar, hoping for help, but Rhaegar was frozen in confusion, unsure of what was going on. Aegon, on the other hand, lifted two scrolls, throwing them to the table as he held out his right hand. As he did so, Ser Jorah made his way across the room, gripping tightly to a red scabbard that had an arching dragon hilt that had two dragons roaring on either side. 

A pulsing ruby stared back at Aegon as he pulled the blade from the scabbard letting the flame pattern blade rested in his lap. He leaned back in the chair, his indigo eyes turning to black as he leered at the man in front of him. 

Illyrio's eyes were wide with terror as a shock expression occurred on his face as he stared at the letters that were resting on the table. Random letters and numbers were resting on the paper, so Lyanna, Rhaegar, and Meleys were looking on with utter confusions, not sure of what she was seeing. 

“My prince I…. I…” Illyrio stirred for once at a loss for words. 

Aegon grinned at him, enthused by the panic that was fluttering across the face of the young prince as he spoke in an edge and icy voice. 

“Khal not prince and soon to be king, now before you think about lying, I want you to know that the next lie you tell will be the last. Ser Jorah, please grab the letter from Aggo and hand it to me.” Aegon’s had a commanding aurora. 

The still icy presence of the prince took over what used to be a bright warm light; it startled Lyanna, but she was also happy. Happy that her son would not be taken advantage of by schemers and liars, she had hoped that he would not end up like the fools that sat on the throne before him. Rhaegar leered at the massage; his eyes rushed against both letters before darkness fluttered across his face as he sneered. 

His mind worked faster than children. After years of puzzles and coded messages, he knew pretty much every code there was, and the ones that he did not think he picked up relatively quickly. He snarled as the little green dragon let out a fiery screech as his bronze eyes shined like two shields. 

“Who were these letters two? The one that you sent talking about the eggs hatching and the game-changing to come quick. I am guessing someone from the west is probably the spider. I am aware of your relationship. But the other letter who could that belong to.” Rhaegar gazes narrowed. 

Rhaegar's lips were watching, raising the urge to let his lips curl over his bright white teeth as the sharpened front canines were ripping into the tender flesh of his bottom lips. He leaned a little bit further until his arms were resting on the long table. 

The fury in his eyes forces his eyes to darken the same way that his son's eyes darken. Lyanna looked over to Rhaegar then her daughter Enyo who seemed to know what was going on, which meant that the four hours that they were gone, it was not to take baths and get changed. They were plotting. 

A sly smile pulled at Lyanna’s face as she was glad that her children were no fools, but when she looked over to Meleys, she had a confused frown on her face. She knew that something was going on. 

She was confused because she did not understand why no one trusted her with even the necessary information about their plans. First, the dragon eggs and now this, she hated being left out, but what else could she do? watch their every move and hope that they talk to her. 

Illyrio's eyes shifted along the room, looking at the letter with terrified eyes as if he knew that sooner or later, they would find out all of it, so he was better off telling them, or he would die. But if he told them the truth Illyrio knew that not only would he still be dead, but his son would be finished as well. So, he kept his mouth shut and watched as the letter was handed over to the prince. 

Aegon's eyes were scanning every inch of the paper before he handed over the paper to his father so that he could read the note as well. After a second passed between the two of them, Rhaegar spoke in a cold edged voice. 

“It says here that you were sending a letter to the golden company that would ask for support for the son of Rhaegar, Aegon Targaryen, his child with Elia. Funny, the Lannister bashed in my son's head!!!” Rhaegar’s temper got away from him as he let out a howl of fury. 

The dragons followed that with screeches; all their silt eyes were filled with hatred as he leered at the man that called all their rage. Aegon leaned back into the chair, his bright indigo eyes locked on the sword that rested in his lap. He knew that if his brother were alive, he would not have this sword and might not have this egg. His mind was racing as he tried to form a possible reason for it when it clicked. 

“We have heard rumors of Blackfyre running about the east since they were exiled; almost all Targaryens had silver hair and violet eyes either light or darker. All it takes is to get a Blackfyre at the right age. They have the blood of Old Valyria, which means that once the eggs were hatched and we were dead, the dragon would be bonded to no one. A Blackfyre would swoop in to save them. How did you come by Blackfyre? They are often hunted and killed because they are thought to be us.” Aegon spoke in a calculating voice. 

The hate in Aegon's voice oozed over every word that he spoke. His shoulders were rigid with fury as expressions flashed across the face of Illyrio. His eyes were shifting around the room like he was not supposed to know the plan or, at the very least, that he couldn't figure it out this early on. 

“My prince, I surely don't know what you mean. I would never do such a thing.” Illyrio was stumbling over his words 

Aegon was over this conversation. He wanted to end him now, his dark indigo eyes were locked on Daenerys, and Enyo both nodded her head as Enyo spoke in a cold voice. 

“hold mae zohhe (hold him down),” Enyo spoke in a cold voice. 

Aegon began to rise from his seat as Daenerys spoke gently to Ser Jorah, a sweet smile on her face like they were not condemning a man to death. 

“Ser Jorah, please get me a quill and paper,” Daenerys spoke in a calm voice. 

There was strange darkness that fluttered over her eyes as Aegon spoke in a threatening tone. 

“Since you like sending messages so much, how about we send a message to Volantis together,” Aegon spoke in a threatening manner. 

Aggo slammed his boot into the back of Illyrio's fat right thigh, watching as his knee gave out as a sneer pulled at his lips while Illyrio let out a pained scream. Rakharo broke his arm, forcing him to fall to his knees as he cried out. Illyrio's eyes widened with terror, his eyes growing misty with tears that were ready to be shed. His three chins were shaking as spit dribbled down his terrified lips. 

“Aegon, wait! I want to ask him a question,” Rhaegar spoke in a calm voice. 

His eyes were darkening, and this strange calm overtook him as his shoulder became calm and relaxed. But there was this smoothness to his motion, a predatory kind of walk; he was looming over Illyrio with a cold sinking hatred settled into the pit of Rhaegar's stomach. 

Rhaegar’s voice was calm; even his eyes were darkening a black color as he spoke, his face blank and quiet, “Is Jon alive? Does he know that I am alive? He would have never agreed to this.” 

Illyrio had hope, hope that this would keep him alive as he looked over to Aegon, whose hand had stayed for the moment. Aegon’s sword hand fell to the right side of his body as his hand went limp, and his grip relaxed as he sneered at Illyrio. 

Knowing that he did not want to let him live, but what else could he do. They were under the impression that not only did Jon not see that they were alive, but he was not the one that set up the mansion on Ebonhead island. 

Illyrio looked over to Aegon, speaking in a quaking terror-filled voice. “If I tell you, will you give me your word that you will not kill me?” 

Aegon's eyes scanned every inch of his face before he nodded his head firmly, but that was not enough for Illyrio. He spoke in a begrudge voice. 

“I swear that if you tell us what is happening with Jon, then I won't kill you. I swear it,” Aegon spoke as everything in his body screamed to kill him. 

It was only after a few moments that Illyrio let out a heavy sigh; he was operating on the belief that not only did Aegon have honor but that he took pride in that assumption. Everyone knew that Lord Eddard Stark was an honorable man. He could only assume that all stark men carried that trait. 

But he was not a stark man; he was a Targaryen. 

“Jon doesn't know that you are alive, that Manse is mine, Jon thinks that you are dead and that the Blackfyre boy is the last line of the Targaryens. He is on his way to the golden company to win support for the Fake Aegon.” Illyrio's voice was shaking but sounded true. 

Rhaegar was shaking with rage; he knew that the words were valid, and if they were, then one of his oldest and dearest friends was either complacent in the lie or a fool. Aegon, on the other hand, did not seem to care either way. He had a mask of indifference and cruelty on his face as he looked down on the fat man in front of them. 

“Thank you for your candor; we will fill in the rest of the pieces by ourselves with time.” Aegon lifted his hand, and with a swift movement of his sword and wet slosh, blood painted the ground red.

The head bounded lifelessly against the ground as lifeless eyes were locked on Aegon as he sighed heavily, staring up at the other as he looked over to Ser Jorah and then Aggo and Rakharo. There was a darkness that fluttered over his face. 

“It's not safe here. We have no clue how many messages he sent before we found out; if what you said is the true father, he has been in content with the west this whole time. None of the free cities will be safe with that fool running around and not with baby dragons flying around. For the moment, we should lay low and build our forces. 10,000 Dothraki is a good start, but it is nothing compared to the seven kingdoms armies.” Aegon's voice was astute as Enyo looked down at the dead body with hate. 

“Aggo, get our fastest rider and have him send the head and this letter to the golden company in Volantis,” Enyo spoke in a cold voice as Daenerys handed off the tied-up scroll to Dothraki blood rider as he picked up the head with ease. 

“Rakharo cut up his body and fed it to the dragons we are leaving for the great grass sea the moment that Viserys can walk. He is a piece of shit, but he is family.” Aegon spoke as he started to move back to the head of the table. 

Lyanna sat there with dark gray eyes, fury filling them as she looked at the dead body that we all but were all but rotting on the ground. But she knew that he would not start to rot for a few hours, even a day if he is perceived well. But Rakharo pulled him by his legs, dragging him out of the room, leaving a trail of crimson fluid on the sterling white ground. 

Lyanna let out a heavy breath as Ser Jorah spoke in a smooth voice. “If the Dothraki are the best Cavalry in the world, then the Unsullied are the best infantry in the world.” 

The moment the word Unsullied was spoken, Rhaegar had a disgusted look on his face, “You mean the greatest slave army in the world. The distinction is important to some people, including me.” A sneer pulled at his lips. 

Lyanna, on the other hand, let out a heavy breath knowing that they are both right, but that did not mean that they can win with six baby dragons and four children. She rubbed her brow wearily, knowing that it was just going to cause other issues, and the last thing that she needed was to have them both arguing. 

“We need an army to get allies in the west, but slaves are not the way to do it, but we still need an army; let me write to Benjen; he is the lord of Bear Island and has the ear of our elder brother Ned. We can have the North and the eastern army that will give us a foothold in the west and some time to think up a more comprehensive invasion strategy.” Lyanna spoke in a stage voice 

Aegon looked over to his mother with a weak smile pulling at his lips at the thought of seeing his family again, but he could not risk letting them know about the dragons. Taking in a deep breath, he considered everything before he spoke in a careful voice. 

“For now, send the letters to Benjen but don't mention the dragons or even where we are. We have time to think about the Unsullied; after all, they are an expensive army and more money than we have. Before we leave, the Dothraki will loot everything from the villa before we go into the great grass sea.” Aegon spoke in a stage voice. 

He knew that he would be aggravating whoever sent those letters back and forth with Illyrio; he would also be poking the bear with sending a message to the west. Some so many people would find that letter before it even reaches the west. But now he was not so sure about what he should do. In a week, even a fortnight, they would leave the villa and go into the excellent grass sea. 

There were other horse lords ripe for the conquering with 10,000 warriors at their backs and six dragons the excellent grass sea would be ripe for the taking and would not even know what hit them. 

* * *

Enyo II 

The morning came fast as Enyo stared blankly out the balcony, her hands resting on the smooth marble railing, watched as the sky turned a bright pink color as splashes of gold danced across the landscapes as a serene air enveloped Enyo. She could not help but smile as her heart thundered with joy and anticipation as she looked down at the sleeping dragon resting beside her and hand. 

She still could not believe that the dragon was real. After all; they were thought to be dead for a few hundred years to hear her dragon sleep. Soft puffed of black smoke jumping from her nostrils as soft hisses and purrs left her clamped jaw. All night she had been racking her brain for a name that matches these dangerous creatures, personality, and coloring. When finally, after a sleepless night, it clicked for her.

_ Toxicana _

A warm smile pulled at the young princess' lips as she grinned at the bright dazzling sky; the thinning clouds were moving across the horizon as she let out a heavy sigh, not sure what she should be doing. The air was ominous, and Enyo knew that sooner or later, there would be a battle, and Dany would not be able to rely on her dragons just yet. So, she had to be able to take care of herself. 

Spinning sharply on her heels, the fluttering silks of her nightgown whipped against her gentle skin as she made her way over to the wardrobe, flinging the smooth wooden door to show off her varying range of pants and gowns. 

There was a smug smile on her face as she pulled at her smooth leather pants and a loose shirt that she had the sleeves cut off, tightening it tightly to her chest. Enyo’s muscle came alive; her body knew that she was about to train, and her mouth was dry with anticipation and hunger. 

Toxicana stirred from balcony purple wings brilliant and almost iridescent flutter against the air as her long coiling neck whipped back and forth, excited that there was going to be some fighting. Enyo could not help but chuckle at the childish wonder that was filling the slit reptilian pupils as her enormous green eyes gazed into the very depths of Enyo’s soul. 

With swift, sure steps, she was on top of the balcony holding her hand out, observing the purple dragon padded off the balcony walking into Enyo’s hand. Her razor-sharp black claws would only grow sharper with time.

Her little claws were racking against the callous palms of the young princess as she started to walk out of the room. Dark Sister is resting against the wall, the pulsing ruby and flaming in the presence of the young dragon lord and her dragon. 

A warm smile pulled at her lips as she pulled the blade onto her hip; they continued to walk down the hall, the silence echoing loudly in Enyo’s ears. She could hear the snarls and snores of Viserys, who was still healing from the beating that Aegon had laid down on him, not two short days ago. The moment that he heard the dragon eggs hatched, he demanded that he get a dragon as well. 

Aegon had bonded with the crimson dragon that he decided to name Ares, Enyo knew the story, and she knew the hermit well. It was hard not to think about those stories, and she got the impulse, and it was the right name, so she said nothing of it. Her twin sister, in all her wisdom, had to ruin their trio of badass characters by naming her silver dragon Silverwing after the good queens from old. 

Daenerys had yet to pick names for her two dragons. The same could be said for Rhaegar; he was not sure what to name the jade-green dragon. Her mind wandered as she thought about the headless wonder that was sent to Volantis. It would take a few weeks; they only imagined what the Blackfyre would do when he saw Illyrio's head. 

Enyo knew that if they marched here that he would have to leave. They could not risk the dragons. It would take years for the dragons to grow and be battle-ready and even longer for their scales to get to the point where standard weapons cannot hurt them. Soft screeches were filling the air, forcing Enyo to be ripped from her thoughts. 

The thick and husky voice filled the air that Enyo knew belonged to the black dragon; he was different from Daenerys in so many ways. Where she was sweet, he was hot-tempered, where she was kind and forgiving, the dragon was vicious and commanding. They say a dragon's personality reflects the real feeling of its rider. It made Enyo wonder if there was a warrior’s exterior hidden below her sweet and kind cover. 

The thought enthralled Enyo; she knew that there was a wild woman hidden behind her kind exterior, and she would bring it out. Enyo was right in front of the door listening to the softer purrs of a second dragon that she knew to be the cream dragon. 

While the black dragon was fiery and quick to anger, the cream dragon was sweet-tempered and kind. The cream dragon did not match Viserys personality, so Enyo knew that this dragon was not for him despite all his outrages and protection. 

With a soft knock at the door, the soft screeches came to an end as the faint creaking of locks came to an end. When the door opened, gentle violet eyes looked up at Enyo as a small smile pulled at her lips. Smooth silver and white curls were rippling against Enyo’s back, gentling, moving against her gentle skin. 

Daenerys looked shocked to see her niece standing in front of her, but she was pleasantly surprised as her shocked expression turned into a simple and sweet smile. However, there was no warmth in her eyes, only confusion about why her niece would be here so early in the morning. 

“Enyo? Has something happened to Aegon? Rhaegar? Lyanna? Meleys?” Daenerys spoke in a calm voice. 

There was panic creeping into her eyes and her voice as Enyo found it amusing that Dany said everyone's name but her brother. Though she knew if she faced the same cruelty as Dany, she would not just hate her brother. She would have killed him. 

“Nothing is wrong. We are going to train; you said that you used to wield a dagger; the dragons are only a few days old, no bigger than cats. We can't be dependent on them. There is a battle coming, and before the dragons are fully grown, there will be a lot of death and sorrow coming for us. We must be ready. Plus, while you might be a Khalessi by default, the Dothraki won't respect you until you show them strength, they might do as you ask, but that is because the khal told them to. So, shall we, my lady?” Enyo held her arm out as she spoke in a severe yet warm tone. 

Dany couldn't help but feel a bitter spik running through her chest as she hides behind a giggle as. She nodded her head firmly as she spoke in a quickened voice, “Just let me get changed. We cannot train long. I have lessons with Jacqui on Dothraki, then horse riding lessons, and lovemaking lessons.” In the last part of her sentence, Daenerys' face turned a bright red. 

It made Enyo wonder what kind of lesson would she be learning; Enyo has yet to have her moon blood so that Daenerys would be married to Aegon a year longer than her, she didn't mind it, but she did find it annoying that her father would not consent to her marriage until that point. By that point, Daenerys will have had a full year alone with him in a marriage bed. 

The thought forced her to frown, but after a moment, she forced herself to put on a blank mask, despite the rage welling in her for her father's stupid and almost childish rules. She stood mute and firm in the hall as she listened to Dany talking to her handmaidens before she emerged with her two dragons 

A black and red dragon dazzling with smoldering red eyes and a cream and gold dragon almost the color of snow. His molten golden eyes were locked on the venomous purple dragons. Toxicana; there was a warmth that began to explode in the two girls as Enyo looked at the get up that Daenerys was wearing. 

A silver-painted horse vest matched her hair and horsehair pants with matching black boots; her violet eyes were speaking as she had a dragon resting on either shoulder. The moment that Daenerys noticed Enyo staring at her dragons, she said in a warm voice. 

“I named the black guy Balerion, and the little cream dragon he is sweet and kind, gentle and loving much like my mother. Sadly, she died, bringing me into this world, but I knew a lot about her thanks to Viserys. It was one of the few things he did, but he told me that our mother likes Arrax. He was just and kind and ruled over all the other gods with a sure and kind hand. Just like this sweet dragon, in her honor, I named him Arrax. She might have been able to ride if she had not died. I also heard that your father finally settled on a name for the jade dragon.” Daenerys' voice slowly began to fill with sorrow. 

Enyo looked up in shock as she looked over to Daenerys, watching as the molten silver hair girl began to speak. 

“He named his dragon Eragon, a way to honor your siblings who died and his first wife. He took letters from each of their names, e and a for Elia, r and e for Rhaenys, and a,g,o, and n for Aegon. Putting them together to make Eragon. It is a kind and thoughtful gesture, though I'm sure the Martells won't see it that way, not at first.” Grief filled her voice as she looked over to Enyo. 

Trying to shake off that lasting grief and sorrow from talking about her mother, but it hung in her eyes. They both knew that they were no longer in a training mood, but it was necessary and something that he would not get a chance to do when they go on the run once more. For now, they would enjoy the little moments because soon they will know only panic and fear in the coming years.


	20. Stark Or Targaryen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my mind and decided to put this one up

Benjen I 

The cold seeped into his bones, but he liked it; it gave him a reason to shut his eyes and pretend that he was sleeping. It was much colder on the island than it ever was on the mainland; Benjen thinks it is because of the water surrounding the barren Island. When he first married Dacey Mormont, he was outraged that he wanted to be a brother of the night's watch, not someone's husband. 

But Ned insisted that he would not lose another brother or sibling and that he would not lose Benjen as well. He acted as if he was their father, a man that was long since dead, and he was outraged with him, but when he met Dacey, there was something about her that reminded him of his sister. 

She was wild and free in every way, just like his sister; most of the women on the island were strong and independent; he knew that if Lyanna had lived and had been there for his wedding, she would have loved it on the bear island. Sailing, horseback riding, and fighting all day every day, it would have been her best life. 

But instead, she was dead, or so the world would have Benjen believe, but when his brother came home and told him that Lyanna was killed but had nobody in his hands, how could he think that his sister was killed with no proof? Ned claimed that the knights killed her so savagely that there was nothing left of her except for a pool of blood where her body used to be. 

Benjen, on the other hand, had another idea if Rhaegar was alive, then why could not his sister be busy as well. 

“Benji,” The sweet and husky pet name rolled off Dacey's lips. 

Benjen looked up. He could not help but drink in the beauty of his wife. She was no southern beauty, but she was a wildness to her that made her twice the women of any southern gal. Benjen often wondered if it was that wildness that drew Rhaegar to his elder sister. 

Dacey is six feet tall, a slim woman who finds herself at ease in a lady's garb or leather armor; it is one of her best features. Despite her extended features, Dacey remains elegant in every way; she had rippling pin-straight hair that rippled down the middle of her back, her soft yet wild dark gray eyes. Her sweet supple lips pulled into a warm smile. 

When Benjen scanned her face, he could see a sense of urgency befall her as the shimmering silver light of the moon streamed into the room from the open window. A strong gust of wind splashed against their pale skin as Dacey spoke in a quicken voice. 

“There are two letters for you both have dire wolf’s sigil, but one came from the south the other from the east,” Dacey spoke in a shocked and confused lace voice. 

She had no way of knowing who the letter was from, but she knew that they knew no one in the east, so whoever sent this letter was no true ally of the Starks. Benjen, on the other hand, had a sense of recognition fluttering across his face. Would the Targaryens be crazy enough to send them a letter? 

“Ones from Ned but the other one who do you think that it could be?” Dacey questioned. 

Benjen wanted nothing more than two to tell her about Rhaegar about how the Targaryens are truly alive that they never died to begin with, but if he did that, he knew that they would be hard-pressed to keep the secret. But if this letter was from the Targaryens, did they genuinely mean to send it to him, or did they think that Ned was still Lord of Winterfell. 

“I don't know,” Benjen’s voice was hollowed. 

His eyes searched the smooth furs that laid against his naked form as Dacey moved over to the bed. The sheets that were clutched against her naked way greeted Benjen’s eyes, but he wasn't looking at her but through her. His smoke gray eyes were black as his mind raced, and his tongue grew awkward in his mouth. 

He was not sure what to think, let alone what he had to say. His head and heart boomed with confusion, hope, and doubt; all were swirling around his mind and spirit as if they were nerves going to end. Not until he put his hands on that letter and if it were from Rhaegar like he might have suspected could he have something to say about his sister. Could he want Ned or Benjen’s aid? 

Benjen was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he did not even notice his wife had placed the letter in his hands. It was only when the smooth silk ribbon rushed against his skin did; he react. His eyes shifted from the fur on his bed to his letters that were resting in his hands. 

He didn't know which one from the south and which one was from the east, but he had to take a chance. He looked at both ribbons. One was a smooth crimson, the other a deep gray, so he knew which. Ned’s would not use a crimson ribbon. He did not like flashy or bright colors. 

Slowly and carefully, he unrolled the paper like it was precious cargo; only after he opened, it made sense of unease washed over him. 

“ _ Benjen has found the Targaryens; they are in the east on an island called Ebon head. We are sending Stannis and a few ships from the crownlands fleet to go after them and bring Rhaegar back alive. Together we will watch him finally pay for his family's crimes. - Ned” _

Benjen had to watch the word and read them a thousand times over as finally, he threw his head back, shifting to stare at Dacey. She was not one to pray not in southern politics; she did not understand why she had to be here instead of on the island that they ruled over. Though she could see the distress on her husband's face and wanted nothing more than to ask him what caused such a look, he spent no time to look up and see what she was doing. Instead, his attention was locked onto the next letter. 

Slowly and carefully, with sure and quick hands, he unfurled the paper, no longer interested in waiting to see what would happen. He wanted to know who this was, and he was not going to wait to think it through. 

But he was not prepared about what he was going to see, the way that they and g curved at the end, or the way that the eyes were dotted with a messy dash rather than a smooth dot. The feminine writing that he knew well, half sloppy, half elegant, the handwriting was unmistakable. 

_ Lyanna’s hands were not, but how? _ Confusion echoed in Benjen’s thoughts as he looked at the paper, unsure of what he was reading.

“ _ Dear Benjen, I'm sure that this might come to you as a surprise, but I'm not dead. I was never raped, and I was never kidnapped. I wanted to tell you, father, Brandon, and Ned, but I knew that you would have stopped me. Robert is a whore he would never have stopped, and I would not be married to a man that not only cheated on me every day, but I would be stuck in a loveless marriage as well. All because father wanted power and had too much ambition. I left with Rhaegar that pool of blood on the bed that you all use to prove that I was dead was really after birth. I am alive with three beautiful children: a son Aegon; he is wild and strong like me. He loves to ride and has an air about him that inspires men like his father. I also have two girls Enyo and Meleys. Enyo is wild and strong-willed, much like her brother, while Meleys is sweet and kind with a sharp wit, which I have no clue where she got that from since it has been seen that Rhaegar and I don't make the best choices. We are at Pentos getting ready to descend into the great grass sea. Robert's rage, and the plotting of the spider is reaching us even here. I know that Robert consumed in his rage will never accept that I am alive unless he sees himself. Ned is his sworn brother. There is no way that he will accept this fact lightly. But I know you, Benji, and I know that you would know my handwriting. A knight Ser Jorah tells me that you got married to Dacey Mormont; I hope that one day I could meet her. I beg of you, Benjen, said to my son in his quest to get the throne back. If you do not believe me come to the east and see for yourself. Love Lyanna”  _

Benjen's whole world stopped, his mind went numb, and his heart boomed so loudly in his chest that he thought that his heart was going to explode. He could not think straight as nonstop terror began to consume him. This handwriting was Lyanna. It was not some trick. He knew it to be accurate, but if this was true like he knew it to be. Then that would mean that Ned and Robert have been hunting down Lyanna and trying to kill her children for 14 years. This just could not be right, could it?

Doubt wormed its way into Benjen's mind , shutting down any forethought or actions. He just sat there in his bed mute, his whole body stiffening up before freezing as if he had never moved to begin with. Dacey noticed the rapid change in how her husband acted; she knew that something was wrong, and unlike her husband, she was not frozen in place. With swift and sure hands, she snatched up the letter. 

Reading it once, then twice, three times she kept reading but it made no sense to her, she dropped onto the bed thinking the letter was a sick joke, so she turned to the other message. Reading that open and even then, none of it made any sense that confusion swallowed her whole. The howling of a dire wolf could be heard as Rob hacked and slashing fighting with Ser Rodrick. 

“Lyanna? Rhaegar? Alive?” Confusion echoed in Dacey's words. 

Her body felt adrift in a sea of confusion; the dark waters were swirling around her body as she collapsed into the side of her husband. The warmth of his body turned cold and forcing. His chest deflated as he let out a heavy breath watching his chest collapse as his shoulders dipped as darkness fluttered across his face. 

“Not shortly after we got here, Ned and Robert told me that Rhaegar never died on that field, that it was another man in his place. It looks like they have found his home, but he is not there. This was all a lie that they crafted to buy them time but has now been used against them. I will not lose my sister a second time. That is her handwriting. I know it well. But I cannot leave the North. I am the lord for better or worse until Robb’s name day. As I'm sure you read, your exiled cousin is with them, Jorah Mormont.” Benjen spoke in a void voice. 

His eyes were wide, yet there was no doubt in them there would be no reason to make up this lie if it were not real; they gained nothing from it. Dacey had a disgusted look on her face as she spoke. 

“Yes, your brother would have executed him for his crimes. He tried to sell some poachers into slavery. It didn't work out well; you might not remember because you were hunting with Rickard.” Dacey spoke in a husky voice, the thought of their eldest son forcing his heart to ache; he had died in a tragic accident that very same day.

They had three other children, all of the girls; the eldest girl was 14, the same age as Robb, and the young nephew he never met. She was named Lyra after the mother he lost. It pained him to think about the son he lost, but she was right. He was with their son when her cousin was pushed off the island and into hiding. 

After a long passing moment, Benjen let out a heavy breath, “We need to know if this is true, I know my sister, and I know her handwriting, but to see it for ourselves it's what I need to gain peace of mind too willing to betray my king and my brother. But I cannot leave….” Benjen was lost in thought, not sure of how to finish the sentence. 

There is no one that he could trust with this “Bear island is barren we struggled with crops our man diets consist of hunted prey, but we cannot survive without crops, you will say that you send me lady of the bear island to the east in the hopes of buying crops I will head to Pentos, and if they are not there, I will hunt in the great grass sea until I find them. I will take a few guards from Bear Island; only men that I know that I can trust will find out the truth.” With a firm and steady voice, Dacey began to rise. 

She looked over to her husband, who nodded his head firmly before getting out of bed, letting his furs fall from his form. What little warmth they gave faded away, not that he needed it. His muscles were wound tightly as panic threatened to swallow his mind and heart. But he dropped into his wooden chair and hung a quill and some paper. 

“Take this note with you; they must know the state of the west if they are telling the truth; they need to know what they are walking into. Hopefully, you can get to them before the great grass sea swallows them up. The Dothraki will not care about their last name if they will attack, and that will be the end of it.” Benjen’s voice echoed his worry. 

Dacey darted across the room, her mind whirling with what she should do; a part of her wanted to take her children with her. The last time that they left her sight, her eldest son was killed with a wild shadow cat brought over with one of the wildings' wargs. Could she leave her children in Winterfell where she could not protect them? 

Her hand went to her mace, throwing it on the bed as she slipped on a pair of tight breeches and an even stricter shirt with a leather holster resting on her hip, able to hold her mace. 

“What about the girls?” Confusion echoed in the young women's words. She did not want to leave her children not ever again 

Benjen had a sullen look on his face as he sneered at the thought of losing his children. He did not want anything to happen, but he knew that his children would get hurt in the east, but they would get hurt here as well.

But at least here, they do not have to worry about being stolen away by the wildlings. That begins to say how safe they would be here when the Baratheon’s find out that they are in connection with the Targaryens. Splitting up the three girls would be the smartest thing, but Lyra is 14, Lillian 10, and Mya was only 4, barely a year older than Rickon. It was not like they could foster them in the south; they would be in danger no matter where they went. 

“Take Lyra. She is skilled with a mace and a Morningstar, but the girls will stay here. They are safer here than on Bear Island. The Iron born have been attacking more frequently, and at least here, the Greyjoy boy is the one that is their prisoner instead of the other way around. Quickly you will leave at night. We will make no big deal about your leaving. We do not need eyes looking at the North, not right now. Take this letter, hand it only to Lyanna.” Benjen spoke in a rushed voice. 

Kinetic energy rushed over him as he jumped to his feet; looking at his wife, both knew that if anyone found this letter, then they would both be dead. Carefully he threw the message into the fire, watching the rapper first turn a golden color as the edges began to curl, and the golden paper then turned black as night as black smoke danced upwards. They were going East. 


	21. Find Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guy I probably won't be updating this Saturday I'm having my room painted game of thrones style but if I can I will try to update.

Maegor Blackfyre III

The heat bore down on Maegor as he looked over to Jon; the blue dye that had been littering their hair was gone; dazzling silver hair and deep blue-violet eyes were on full display as they moved through the streets of Volantis moving their way to the camp of the golden company. 

The Golden Company is considered the most delicate and most influential company of the Free Cities, considering them the most honorable. Despite the notorious unreliability of sellswords, the Golden Company is reputed to have never broken a contract.

Hence, Oberyn did not think that Maegor would sway those in the company by merely stating that he was the long-lost dead son of Rhaegar Targaryen, Oberyn knew that it was foolish to think that, but with the help of Jon and Oberyn, then he might have a good chance taking them away from Volantis. 

Maegor's company travels to Volon Therys, where he, Jon Connington, and Oberyn head towards the camp of the Golden Company. Wearing the colors of House Targaryen, Maegor wanted nothing more than to invert the colors he was always proud of his family despite the stigma of hatred and fear that flooded people's minds and hearts. He did not mind it; in fact, he revealed it as if his very name could introduce that level of fear like the original fear-filled Maegor. 

The bright blue sky was streaked with a bright red comet that could be seen from all around the world. The roaring dragon head was ominous like something was going on somewhere else in the world and that it was just the strangest thing. Some say the comet is heralding the next heir of the western realm. Some say it is for the death of Jon Arryn, while Jon says it is just a falling star on its last dying breaths. 

But Maegor knew the truth; he remembered the stories that his mother used to tell him when he was a child, that when he saw the comet again, it would be because of dragons coming back into the world. He would be the one to do it, but Maegor would have known if he had not hatched dragons, which meant that the Targaryens did. But which one was it the prince and princesses of Ebonhead. Or was it the beggar prince and the Stormborn princess? 

Confusion and doubt flooded him as a husky Dornish laced voice filled the air, “Thinking about the comet again. You know that all the dragons are dead; if they were still alive, then your father would have never died.” Jon spoke in a calm voice. 

Maegor snapped his head up, wanting to know how his father could have died, but then he realized that he was still living the life of Aegon. Which meant that he was talking about the young prince Rhaegar who died on the battlefield. A sneer pulled at the young princes’ lips as he nodded his head heavily 

“It's ominous, and there is a different feeling in the air; that comet has been up for fortnight since we have heard anything from Illyrio. Who knows if the assassins are even still on our trail? This comet only breeds more misfortune and anxiety.” Maegor’s spoke in a solemn voice. 

A slight frown was pulled at Maegor leered at the distant camp; the fluttering of golden banners stared back at him as Oberyn was riding at the head of the back. Varys had long since returned to the west. He had to make sure that all plans were going smoothly in the West; he did not need them mucking things up while he was gone. 

The realm would turn against the Targaryen when they found out that they were the ones that killed Jon Arryn. Maegor was no fool; he knew that they did not do it, but the people of the west hated the Targaryens after the foolishness of the mad king. They will believe anything. After all, they are not dragon lords. Not anymore; they do not need to be the knee. If any fool can fight and rule and no longer need a dragon, they no longer need to fear the Targaryen’s only hate them. 

“I'm sure there is a letter waiting for us at the golden company camp they knew to send word to them.” Jon tried to reassure the prince. 

But Jon just could not understand why he was so invested in what happened to Illyrio. He was their benefactor and a snake. That is all he was not to be liked or trusted. But try telling him that, and he would flip out, saying that Jon did not know the first thing about him. Jon had only been the young prince’s life since he was 8. 

He has raised the boy ever since, but he had been in constant contact with Illyrio this whole time; it made him think that there was more going on beneath the scenes. It made him feel that they were hiding something, but he owed his friend Rhaegar this much. He died to protect his family, and the least that Jon could do was carrying on his duty. 

Maegor's chest began to expand as he took in a deep breath letting his mind settle on the thought that his father was okay; he had to be okay. They were within reaching distance of the camp when Maegor noticed that a man was waiting for them as there were skulls along with the spikes and pole around the base. 

The man was overweight, with a big round head, mild grey eyes, and thinning grey hair that he brushes sideways to cover up a bald spot. Jon knew the man to be Harry, the newest commander of the golden company; his eyes were locked first on Jon taking in every inch of his face making sure that it was indeed him before turning to look at the false Targaryen prince. 

Harry's eyes roamed every inch of his pale white skin before moving to his deep blue eyes that flashed violet in a particular light. His high cheekbones and angled nose as he watched the young prince before turning to look at the last member of the party Oberyn Martell. Seeing him helped motivate Harry into choosing the Targaryen boy. 

A lot of the members of the golden company wanted to come home to the West, and they would not merely side with a boy because of his last name. Unless he made a truly compelling case, Harry was nervous that he would have to fight with only 10,000 men and a green boy. But it made him think that with the Dornish spears at his back, they have a greater chance of winning and swaying more kingdoms to his side. 

Harry likes to boast gold for four generations, so he knew that this would be their only chance of heading back to the west, but he still wasn't going to make it easy for them either they would have to work if they wanted to get the Golden company at their back.

“Jon, your old dog, I didn't think that we would have ever seen you again.” The older man spoke in an easy voice. 

Jon couldn't help the smile that was creeping on his face as he grinned at Harry, a sense of fun filling the air as he looked over to Oberyn and Maegor, his eyes scanning their face carefully moved a little bit further. The scent of hay and soil-filled the air, baking in the heat that was all but stifling as sweating buckets rippled down his back in warm sticky tendrils.

“It would seem like our timeline moved up; assassins were sent to Pentos looking for the prince, so we have to move a little faster than we would have liked. Shall we talk with the rest of the captains?” Jon spoke in a friendly voice. 

Maegor was trying to keep his temper, it had been a few moments, and they had still yet to introduce him to the man that would one day be taking orders from him. After a long moment, Henry smiled gently at Jon as he spoke in a calm voice. 

“Prince Aegon, it's nice to meet you, your grace, there was a letter and a package for you that came in the night a Dothraki rider dropped it off and then rode back for Pentos,” Harry spoke in a warm voice. 

But Maegor's blood began to chill; he knew that the Dothraki were under the control of the Targaryens, so the thought that they would have sent a rider to this camp didn't help him be put any more at ease. His heart boomed in his ears as he listened to the blood rushing in his veins as his tongue grew dry with anticipation. 

He nodded his head, not sure of what to say; all he could think about was his father; something had to happen to him; what else would he have gone silent. He would have never sent a rider here if he knew that the Targaryens were the one controlling. 

“Lord Oberyn, I didn't know that you were with the young Targaryen prince.” Harry was rather shocked as all three men began to lower from their horses as they started to make their way into the large, massive tent. 

All the while, Maegor could barely think straight as he thought about his father and what the Targaryens might have done to him. If they had harmed even a single hair on his head, then Maegor would end them. He knew that he would be taking a risk to bring them there, but he would not let them get away even if he meant that he would lose Jon. He would need his help to get the Stormlands. 

As they walked into the tent three men were standing off talking and drinking when they saw Jon. They all roared with joy and dismay like they did not think that he was alive. Varys stole away his honor when he spread that lie about him drinking himself to death, and he would kill him for that, but now he did not have time to deal with that. 

“This is Aegon VI, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. We are here for one reason to ask for your aid in taking back the kingdoms in the name of the Targaryens. Our first step would be to collect the Dornish spear, and we would go to the Stormlands to take back my keep and take back a large portion of Robert's support.” Jon spoke in a smooth voice. 

The whole room was silent as they looked to the young prince that took a step forward; there was a dangerous gleam in his violet eyes as Henry spoke in a smooth voice. 

“Why should we side with you? Viserys is in Pentos and has the backing of Illyrio and his sister; they are both full-blooded Targaryens. They had a better claimant to the throne, especially since Areys before his death changed his heir to Viserys; you have no claim to the throne.” Harry spoke in a cold voice. 

A sneer pulled at Maegor’s lips as he bubbled in rage; his heart boomed as venom and bile built in the back of his throat as his muscle began to tighten. His vision began to narrow as he spoke in a steel-like voice. 

“The ravings of a mad man, he was created with delirium in his last final days, and Viserys is just as mad and cruel as his father. If he ruled, then the whole realm would suffer. He was not stable, and he never will be. I am the only logical choice. He is a green boy with true fighting talent. Do you want to live and die at a fool's side?” Maegor spoke in a compelling voice. 

The hate that flashed in his eyes when he thought about the foolish silver hair prince forced a wave of disgust rolled over him as he looked to the men that looked to be somewhat swayed by his words. He knew that he had them, and they were talking a big game, but Maegor knew that they were going to side with him. 

“You all want to go home. I am giving you the chance to do just that, go home, and make Robert regret exiling you. Go home and get all the riches that you can hold onto and your homes. Daenerys is a woman and a child, Viserys a mad man and weak, but I was born to lead. I am the son of Elia and Rhaegar. Dorne is rallying to my side; it is only a matter of time till the Tyrells side with us as well. After all, if not for the Targaryens first conquest, then there would never be a house Tyrell, at least not at their station. I'm the only logical choice.” Maegor spoke with command and power. 

When he spoke, he could see the way that their faces changed from skeptical to sure and smooth; after a long moment, Harry and the rest of the offers bent the knee. 

“We will follow you to Dorne.” They all bent their knees as they looked at the young prince.

After a long moment, Aegon spoke in a calm voice, his eyes searching the tent until he noticed a bag with a note attached to it. He knew the moment that he saw it he knew that it was the packages that the Dothraki had brought here before riding back to the Volantis. 

“Is that the letter and package that Illyrio sent to me?” Maegor's father’s name tasted foreign in his mouth as he walked over to the table. 

The smooth leather tape stared back at him as his eyes scanned over the bag. The soft leather school stared back at him. A shudder rushed down his pain as his fingers were hovering over the letter. Looking at the signing, it was a three-headed crimson dragon; fear, cold, and spiking ran through his heart like a knife. 

An ominous air fluttered through the tent as Oberyn walked over to his fake nephew, standing firm as he gripped tightly to the letter. Maegor’s hand was shaking with rage and refused to touch the message; instead, his hands went to the leather pouch opening the top and staring inside. Disgust rushed over his body as he looked over the severed head that resides in the bag. 

Glassy black eyes stared back at Margot. His kind tinged a black color from the tar that his head was dipped into. The moment that the bag opened, the buzzing of flies could be heard as they buzzed around the dead glassy eyes. A fat puffy pink tongue was inflamed and staying out of his face; his skin was slowly starting to rot as a sharp pungent odor hit his nose, feeling like two blades stuck up his nose. 

Obery spored in a low voice, “You thought that you could play us like this fat fool, now he is dead, and you will be next. Stay out of our way, or our horde will roll over you with fire and blood. Blackfyre should have learned the first time around; we will meet your force with fire and blood. This is your last, and only warning stay out of our way - with best wishes the true Targaryens.” 

The minute that he spoke the words, a murderous fury flooded his chest as he looked to his false uncle, who had muttered so low that only the two of them could hear him. Maegor's shoulders began to shake with rage and murderous fury as he looked over to Jon, whose eyes were locked on the bag; he knew that it was nothing good. 

Maegor spun sharply on his heels. He could not let them see him if he could not let them know the truth, but he also wouldn't let his father’s killers walk. He knew that the so-called Khal Aegon Targaryen and his wives had something to do with this. He would not let them get away with it. 

“We are heading to Pentos; Illyrio is dead; if those people that killed him are still there, then we will kill them. If they are not, then there are riches locked away in a fault that we will take and use to higher sellsword before making our West to Dorne.” Maegor knew that even if they left Pentos, they would see them again in the west, and he would end them. 

* * *

Varys II

_ Before Benjen got his letter from Lyanna  _

Varys watched from the shadow studying the Northern host making their way into the contour yard; their stony faces were the least scary thing about them. Three massive dire wolves were making their way through the courtyard. The largest of the three dire wolves was a snow-white wolf with bright red eyes locked on any one of them that he perceived as a threat. 

His thick muscular shoulders and lean yet muscle form was intimidating as he leered at the people around him. There were two other wolves, the smallest out of the three and possibly the whole litter. She has grey fur and yellow eyes, while the other she-wolf was much larger than the little wolf, dark golden eyes, and grey fur was filled with joy and worry. 

Varys watched how a young man with deep brown hair and matching eyes rushed up to the Northern lord. 

“Welcome, Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honor of your presence is requested.” He spoke in a quick and rushed voice. 

Ned's eyes darkened because he knew that this meeting would be anything but pleasant, and the moment that they were down, they would have to speak with Ser Barristan, and for his sake, he hoped that he told the truth and quickly. 

Being a white sword is for life. There is no way to get out of it except death. Ned knew that his death would only trigger people to side with the Targaryens, so they had to be careful with this.

“Get the girls settled in. I’ll be back in time for supper. And, Jory, you go with Bran to start his training.” Ned began to lower from his horse. 

His dire wolf Ghost frequently moved at Ned’s side, bright red eyes shimmering in the light as he looked over in Varys' directions. As if he could see him even in the darkness, the piercing crimson eyes were homed in on Varys. Shudders rushed down the plump man's spine as he stared at Ser Jory, the cold hard face Northmen.

“Yes, my lord.” Ser Jory nodded his head firmly. 

Catelyn Tully was among her daughters. Her fiery red hair was burning in the light as her deep blue eyes scanned the people of the castle with hate and dismay. Varys knew that the journey was not more comfortable for her; she lost two of her sons, and now her third son would be spending more time training with weapons and death. 

Bran’s eyes were wide as he searched the courtyard, hoping to see the great knight or Ser Barristan the bold but instead, all he sees is Jamie as he rides off with his king to the council chamber. At the same time, the master of arms escorts Bran to the training yard where he would spend the rest of the day training in lance, spear, sword, and bow. 

Ned smiled weakly at his son as he watched him walk off with the battle-hardened man; there was a sweet smile pulling at Ned's lips as a sense of pride rushed over Ned. He did not want to go to this meeting; he did not want to have to See Barristan and possibly torture him to get information that could lead to getting his sister justice. 

‘If you’d like to change into something more appropriate…” The messenger spoke in a skittish voice. 

Ned did not pay him the least amount of attention instead, he started to walk off, leaving Varys to disappear in the shadow. Stalking amongst the darkness, he needed Ser Barristan alive, and he needed their attention on the Targaryens so that Maegor could move unbidden through the east and into the west. 

For the moment, he slipped into the small council chamber as if he never left, watching as Ned stomped into the room, not a few moments later. Sweat dripped down his back, drenching his clothes. The stink of hay and death wafted off his form. The silent steps of a dire wolf did not even so much as fill the air. 

Ghost was more silent than even Varys; his knowing eyes were filled with human intelligence that was unknown to the others. His eyes were piercing as Renly walked into the room when he saw him, Ned could barely believe his eyes. He was the spitting image of Robert from when he was a child. 

Renly is a powerful man who is lean and lithe. He has a handsome, clean-shaven face Renly much resembles a young Robert, so when Ned saw him, he was taken back for a moment. It was like he went back in time to when the rebellion had first started. It was a startling sight to see. Renly is almost as tall as his eldest brother, and if what the people say is right, he has an easy smile. The exact opposite of Stannis, who stood off to the side. 

A dangerous, almost murderous look formed in the older man's eyes. Was he still outraged that he did not get Storm's End or was not given the position as hand to the king? Ned was not sure, but much like Varys, he knew the only right way to keep the crownlands in line is to keep Stannis close.

He was not well-liked, but he is a strong and hardened warrior and an even better leader. All the crownlands are at his control; they have the only other fleet beside the Arbor and the Iron born. The Iron born would be more likely to attack them than help them. 

Stannis stood off to the side waiting for his elder brother to come in as the master of ships. His position would be especially crucial. If they found out where Rhaegar was, they would send him to collect or kill the Targaryens. Ned knew that Stannis did not like him but respected him, but then again, Stannis did not like anyone, let alone a man that replaced him as Roberts's brother. 

“Lord Stark,” Varys spoke in a polite voice. 

“Lord Varys,” Ned spoke in a monotone voice. 

“Renly! You’re looking well.” Ned spoke in a warm tone embarrassing the man that Ned thought of as a younger brother. 

“And you look tired from the road. I told them this meeting could wait another day, but…” Renly spoke in a kidding voice as he turned to look at Little Finger. 

Petyr had been slight and short for his age as a boy, and nearing his thirties, he is still a short man of slender build. Petyr has sharp features, a small, pointed beard on his chin, and dark hair with threads of grey running through it.

He has laughing gray-green eyes like a cat, thought when Petyr laughs, his eyes do not. His breath is always fresh, smelling like mint, which he had enjoyed chewing as a boy. Petyr has always been cunning and intelligent.

“But we have a kingdom to look after. I have hoped to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me.” Petyr spoke in a calm voice. 

Ned smiled gently at him, thinking about his wife telling him about the foolish boy that had rested in River Run for a few years. He knew that Jon Arryn's personally meant this man, so he did not mind him.

But Varys knew that he was pulling the string; the Targaryens did not kill the lord of the Vale. He knew that it had to be Little Finger. No one else would dare attack the king's hand, knowing the fury that it would bring down on their house. 

“She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well.” Ned spoke with a dark glint in his eyes as Little Finger picked up on it. 

“All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem…from navel to collarbone.” Little Finger ran his finger from his navel to his collarbone. 

“Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with.” Ned taunted again as Ghost rested at his feet as Ned collapsed into the chair with sweat dripping down his body. 

“It wasn’t the man that I chose, my lord. It was Catelyn Tully. A woman worth fighting for, I am sure you will agree. I hear that she decided to come south instead of staying North with your oldest child Robb.” Little Finger spoke in a sly voice. 

Ned moved his lips to speak, but another man spoke before he could get the chance. 

“I humbly beg your pardon, my Lord Stark.” The deer man that knew the truth the whole time walked into the room. 

“Grand Maester. How many years has it been?” Ned was shocked that the Lannister spy was even still alive. 

“You were a young man. And you served another king. Oh, how forgetful of me. This belongs to you now. Should we begin?” Maester Pycelle asked a question. 

But just as they were thought to start, Stannis collapsed into his seat as a large man walked into the room with a silent white and gold shadow. Ser Barristan's blue eyes shifted as he looked at each of the lords. He was never invited to the meetings before, so he knew that now there was something wrong. 

The moment that he locked eyes on Ned, he knew that something was just not right; Varys simply watched it all unfold as Robert sat at the head of the table. As he leered at the man, his face bright red from fury filled in his deep blue eyes as he spoke in murderous voices. 

“Tell us what you know about the Targaryens; we know that Rhaegar is alive on Jon’s deathbed he told us that the knights of the white order took him and ran away to the east. All but you? Where is he?” Menacing and cool Roberts's voice was just barely stable. 

This rage began to simmer beneath his skin, ready to burst from his coat the moment that Ser Barristan said the wrong thing. Barristan was there when he found out the truth, so there was no point in him playing dumb. There was doubt filling the soft periwinkle eyes as he let out a heavy breath, his chest heaving as he looked over to Jamie. 

The golden-haired fool betrayed their king, and Ser Barristan knew that the Targaryen would painfully end him. There would be no way that they would show him mercy if they gave him something astounding. Ser Barristan knew that the Targaryens were not at Ebonhead any longer; they would send occasional letters throughout the years. 

Lately, those communications have become more constant. They went to find the younger Targaryens that had been hidden away in Pentos this whole time so it would be easy to tell them the truth without hurting his king or Queen or the young prince and princesses that Barristan had yet to meet so nothing that he could have said would have changed anything. 

“Ebonhead in the summer isles he lived there in seclusion with….” Ser Barristan spoke in a hesitant voice, unsure if he wanted to tell them about Lady Lyanna; he knew that would lose his head, and Robert would lose himself in his rage. 

“His wife, they have a manse secluded in the middle of the forest that is where they are hidden away,” Ser Barristan spoke. 

Varys looked over Ser Barristan and doubted he knew that the Targaryens were not on that island, but he was not going to tell them that he wanted to see who would come out on top, and a part of that would see if they could hatch those eggs. But they have not heard from the Targaryens exploits in a long time, and it's worried Varys that something might have happened with Illyrio. 

Robert hooted with a murderous joy as Ned had a steely clam mask on his face as he looked over to his king, unhappy with how he was showing off his joyous rage, but he felt a sense of gratification.

None of them knew that Ser Barristan was playing them other than Varys; little finger looked like he knew that if Rhaegar were given a chance would tell them that he was not the one that killed Jon Arryn. 

If the truth came out, it would have been harder for him to claim the throne for himself. 

“Ser Barristan, you are dismissed,” Ned spoke in a monotone voice as Robert turned his cobalt blue eyes to his little brother Stannis. 

A joy and murderous intent flash in the fat man’s eyes as he spoke in a calm voice, “Take some of the crownlands fleets and hunt Rhaegar down. I want him brought here and executed in front of the entire realm” Roberts' voice was smooth and relentless. 

Ned spoke just the same turn to look at the master as he did so. “Prepare a raven for Winterfell. I am sending a letter to Benjen.” 

But little did Ned know that he was not the only one that was sending a letter to Benjen.

  
  



	22. The Spurned Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First one of the day I know it is short

Viserys II

It was a darkness that enclosed him, not darkness of the mind, but one of sight; his whole body felt like an anchor pulling him down into the most bottomless pits of hell. A fire boiled in his veins, one created through unbearable pain. It had been a fortnight since he took a beating from his so-called nephew Aegon. 

Yet Viserys did not feel better; he only started to walk a few days ago, and each time he walked, his body ached more than it did the day before. He was hard-pressed to find a day where there was no venom pooling in his mouth as he struggled to stand and within the overpowering heat of the east and the smoldering light that bathed his batter skin. 

The bruises on his face were not swollen, but they were a hideous green, gray color as the welts on his face began to feel. He thought that this might be a good thing but the longer that he stayed in bed, the worse he felt, and the more that his rage grew. Even now, as he slowly opened his eyes, his vision still blurry as his eyes, much like the rest of him was recounting from the beating. 

The soft screeches of dragons were growing each day in power, and the hatching was still no more extensive than cats, but they are cats with wings and fire that they can now breathe on their own without command. 

There were times that the sweet and temper voices of Daenerys, Enyo, and Meleys could be heard as they whispered the words Dracarys like they were talking to lovers. He could listen to the clashing of steel as Aegon fought against Dothraki after Dothraki, hoping to get used to all their tactics while teaching them how western fighters wield their blades. 

Aegon knew that once they got into the grass, they would begin to take over Khalasar after khalasar. Viserys was outraged at the notion he was the one meant to rule over those savages, not him; it was his birthright to be the king. 

He could hear the words of the Dothraki handmaiden as they taught Daenerys the language. But occasionally, Viserys would listen to the hands maidens talking in the common tongue. They kept saying the same thing repeatedly. 

What if the young khal were to take over all the other khal’s hordes, then that would make him the khal of khal and that thought alone force Viserys into a murderous frenzy now in his last moments of living a life of luxury then he would be forced to run through the grass like some silver-haired savage.

The thought disgusted him, but it was either that or stay here and see what kind of hell rained down on them when the Blackfyre came here. He knew that he was coming here even if he said he would have died, so he had a choice to leave and live like a savage or die. 

That made a choice easy he had to leave. If he didn't, then he would be as dead as his mother and father, and while he might have missed them in some way or another, that didn't mean that he wanted to be ruined like them. Slowly he shuffled off the bed letting his feet graze against the marble ground cool to the touch and soothing his burning skin. 

When he was not in pain, he was in a rage that the dragon meant to be his wouldn't go near him or more like Daenerys wouldn't let him near the dragon. She had grown bold in her marriage to Aegon.

Now she spends everyday training with Enyo in the hope of being the Khaleesi that the horde needs. But she was not Dothraki, and she did not earn her position; she lucked out into it with Viserys' help. 

They took orders from her out of fear, and she knew that, so as Viserys shuffled against the ground moving to the balcony, it was not all that shocking to see Daenerys hacking and watching with skill and precision that was clumsy but being honed every moment she practiced. She seemed to be struggling with the fluid motion. 

When Viserys looked to Enyo, he lusted for her; if not for her curvaceous form, it was her dazzling snow-white hair with silver hair swirling and whipped like a current moving in the wind. She was spinning and dancing light on her toes and heels. Her moves were like water, fluid and fast, almost as if she was dancing. 

Her sword Darksister was gleaming from the black aura shone in the light as she fought against the blood riders meant to protect Dany was taken one hell of a beating from the young princess. Her eyes were alive with purple flames as she danced and hacked a beautiful dance that, if she were taking seriously, would have ended their lives with ease. 

All the while, a dazzling venomous purple dragon with iridescent scales had thick black claws ripping into the thick branches of the fig tree that rested in the garden, the young dragons whose long tail had wrapped around the unit three times. Her long coiling neck was whipped back and forth as her evil green eyes were locked on the young princess. 

Sweat damped both their hairs as Daenery's eyes were darkening with black color; flames danced in her irises as she leered at the start dummy. Her fingers were evenly spread apart on the grip as she looked to the gleaming silver blade; it was no Valyrian steel, but it worked well to help her hone her skills. 

Straw went flying everywhere as she thrust and stabbed, all the while Ser Jorah was looming over her giving her kind words and instructed her whenever he thought that she was close to giving up. He was teaching her position and swift motions. Usually, it is Aegon that shows her the best way to pick up the Martial arts, but today, he seemed absent, as was his crimson dragon, Ares. 

But one thing that Viserys noticed about these three dragons was that they seemed to be more focused and grow faster than the other three dragons. Even now, smoldering red eyes were filled with a fury that Viserys had never seen before; there was this dangerous and cold intelligence to his eyes that told Viserys he was not some mindless beast. He had yet to regain his strength, but he knew that when he did, and he tried to put Daenerys in her place, he would end up losing his hand. 

But it begs the question if they are here where the prince is? 

Viserys began to turn sharply his bags were packed by the help a day ago. All the slaves were given a choice to either leave with the prince or stare here; he did not care if they stayed out of his way. 

The thought about him forced a sneer to leave his lips as he walked down the hall silently as his batter body would allow; the whisper could be heard through the castle as Viserys ears tricked to pick up even the slightest hint of Valyrian or the common tongue.

He wandered the shadows hoping to be seen; he could not stand the snickers of the Dothraki or the pentoshi slaves; it disgusted him to think that a child bested him in combat. It would not happen again. He would not allow it to happen again. 

Viserys was so used to sneering that he had not even felt it when a new kind of bloodthirsty sneer threatened to pull at his lips as he smirked as the sound of the common tongue filled the air.

“Benjen won't reply to the letter. He will send an in-person response. He knows not to trust the ravens, not with all the spies that are in the west. But he won't come in person his absence will be missed so instead he will send someone. Still, if we go into the great grass sea they will not find us, and they will get attacked everywhere that they go we are better off waiting here what makes you think that they are even going to come back here the Blackfyre might just keep going.” The smooth and calculating voice of Lyanna filled the air. 

There was a stray silence as tension settled into the room. No one said anything, but it was telling to see that both queens were not in the meeting. But then again, they were children, and Aegon was nearly a man grown could it be because of their age. Viserys knew that was not it. Aegon would not let his queens out of the plots and plans they were to do this unified. 

“Oh, and what would you have me do, Lyanna. Aegon is a khal. If he tells his horde to move, they will agree to send the letter to Benjen despite my wishes otherwise. But on this, we agree we cannot stay here from what the slaves here say Illyrio’s last wife was a Blackfyre. That boy that he is trying to pass off as my son was in fact, his son. If someone sent Aegon, Enyo even Meleys my head, he would have hunted the person down that did it and kill them. I might disagree about the way that they took power and got the dragons back to this world, but they are here, and we must protect them at all costs. They are going to be the reason that we win the throne.” Rhaegar spoke in a cold voice. 

Then it clicked Aegon was not in the room, that made Viserys wonder where he was; his legs began to move on their own as if he was driving without thinking. There was an intrigue that filled his chest. If he could cause tension between the prince and his parents, then he might be able to sneak away the power to rule over them all. All he had to do was kill them. 

“Uncle?” His tone shocked yet venomous. 

Viserys snapped up from his thoughts to see a boy with snow-white curls and bright indigo eyes that were cunning in every way. They had a dangerous edge to them that disappeared when he smiled, he had a comfortable and smug smile pulling at his lips even now. There was arrogance to him like Aegon knew that he was better than Viserys and that force a murderous rage to fill him 

But he was forced to grin and bear it; they would never trust him if he acted toward them in a murderous internet, so instead, he would have to play at their game to pretend to be docile until such a time where he could take the dragons for himself so that he could take the throne for himself. 

“Nephew…. Ares,” Viserys shifted his gaze between the prince as the crimson dragon that rested on his shoulder. Now while all the dragons were growing fast and yes, three dragons were growing more quickly than even all of them. Ares grew the fastest of them all. 

He was almost more extensive than a small cat at the age of 2 weeks, and he was only going to keep growing; even now the dragons' silt reptilian pupils were locked on Viserys, cutting through the bull shit that was his words and sly advances. 

He knew that he was not to be trusted, and he was not the only one. His crimson dragon wings were pressed down, cutting into Aegon's arms as claws hands were digging in the arms of the prince though he did not seem to mind. 

Blackfyre rested on his back as the ruby pulsed in the presence of the dragon hatchling; there was a power in his eyes as he stared at the young silver hair, gaunt face prince. 

“I didn't think that you would be out of bed so soon your last day in civilization, it would be hard on you” Aegon's voice was playful if not smug. 

His indigo eyes shifted to his young dragon hatchling running his fingers along with his dragon's elongate coiling next move, filling in his eyes as something warm unlocked in his chest. At the same time, cold, spiking envy filled the trunk of the young prince standing in front of him. 

Viserys had always dreamt of a dragon, but he never thought that he would ever get one, and nowhere one stood, and he, a pure-blooded Targaryen, could not get one unless he killed for one. Aegon, the first of his name, took what he wanted Viserys would do the same. 

“I'm sure Dany will have an equally hard time. She did not grow up on a horse like you; she did not live in the seclusion of the wilderness like you. I am sure that you will find I am not the only one with delicate bones. It would be a shame if my sister broke any of those bones. I would hate to see what would happen to her and your horde then. What is it those savages say a khal who cannot ride is no khal? I wonder what they would say about a foreign ho…. girl,” Viserys struggled not to say the word whore. 

It was one of those impulses that he could not curb even for appearance, but the ominous threat did little to scare Aegon. Instead, he gave his uncle a vindictive, almost murderous smile as he spoke; he got closer to him with long strides. 

Steam rippled off Ares's body as black smoke exploded from his flaring nostrils and small puffets of crimson flames danced along with the air. But instead of seeing a murderous sneer begin to form on the young Aegon's face, Viserys instead saw something far more chilling. 

An easy-going smile, as he gripped tightly to his uncle's shoulder, Aegon’s rage began to grow to the point that Viserys was afraid he might kill him right there. While he might deserve it, he is one of the last three pure-blooded Targaryens. It was more important now than ever to keep that bloodline pure with the dragons back to life. 

Though with each word that Aegon spoke in a warm, almost carefree voice, his hand clenched just a bit hard on the young man's shoulder, showing off his rage as he did so. 

“Well, for you, I would hope that Dany will make it through this journey without any broken bones, or I would have no choice but to put down the unruly beast that hurt her. Oh, and it should go without saying if you touch Enyo or Meleys, I will kill you.” His voice was not threatening or ferocious. 

In fact, he seems positively warm like this idea of killing him did make him happy that only chilled Viserys blood more as Aegon stared at Viserys deep in my eyes as black teeth snipped at the skin around Viserys eyes he couldn't get even form a coherent thought he could keep his face blank. 

“Egg, can we talk about our next plans? I have an idea on how to find the other hordes,” Meleys spoke in a calculating voice. 

Confusion flooded Meleys as she watched the two of them interact for a moment. But Aegon's easy-going smile seemed to put her at ease. 

“Sounds good, Mel” A warm smile pulled at Aegon's lips as he walked off, leaving Viserys to wonder if he was going to stay alive much longer.


	23. The Great Grass Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think should Viserys get a painful and tortures storyline where at the end he gets redemption at the end  
> Should he be kept a slave to help create more Targaryens  
> Or should he just be killed?  
> Let me know what you guys think and why.

Daenerys Ⅳ

Burning white-hot pain rushed through her as she resisted the urge to slump over the horse. Her legs were aching, her back was burning, her mind was reeling, and she was struggling to stay on the horse. She was just glad that they were stopping for the day. She tried to ride up at the front of the horde with Aegon and his sisters, but she could not every bump hurt her. 

So, she said in the middle of the hordes, the stench of shit and death filled the air as they went about slaughtering horses and sheep for dinner. Balerion flew over their heads, and they had been riding for a fortnight, and the pain was getting too much to bear. Looking at her hands, Daenerys was shocked to see that they were bleeding. 

Her hand pink and raw as her fingernails turned a deep red color as her muscles and joints began to tighten, and she fought the urge to moan out in pain. Her mind was blank as she did her best not to show her distress. 

She knew that the Dothraki respected strength, and that is what she needed to find. She hated it, but she knew that the Dothraki respected Enyo more than her, and she was yet to be married to Aegon. Her mouth was parched, and her body ached painfully as her mind wandered to the landscape. 

Ares was darting over the bright emerald grass-covered grass, his gliding red scales glimmering in the light as his glowing red eyes lit up with joy. He and the rest of the dragons were only a month old yet were already the size of dogs. Balerion descended the sky, snapping and biting at Ares. The two tumbled, their tails and teeth whipping at each other as Toxicana came to join in on the fun. 

All the while, Eragon, Arrax, and Silverwing were gliding effortlessly along the air circling the camp that was slowly beginning to build up. There was only grass as far as the eyes could see, the scent of horse and hay mixed as I noticed Lyanna and Rhaegar walking off with Meleys. They were in deep thought about finding out who might be the emissary of Benjen and where he might be. 

Daenerys' three handmaidens were rushing over to her, fretting about her as they helped her get off her horse, a silver filly that was supposed to be her wedding gift from Drogo. She had to admit that the beast was gorgeous and that there might be some kind of humanity locked away in his savage mind, but that ended when he killed Ser Gerold. Any sympathy that she might have had for the man was gone. 

Hatred flared in her chest as Balerion let out a furious snarl as the joking matter in which he bit Ares ended. Ares sensing the intention of the young dragon, snarled and snapped right back black, and crimson flames batted against each other. They took off into the sky; Aegon frowned at the sight as he turned to look back at Dany, a weak smile pulling at his face. 

Aegon knew that she was hurting and did his best to accompany her; she and Viserys were both not used to riding horses for such a long period. Viserys was aching as well but not merely as much as Daenerys, who had yet to consummate her marriage; her pain kept her from enjoying a bed with Aegon he could have made her, but he was far too kind and gentle for that. Any man that spoke ill of him about controlling his Khaleesi dealt with them quickly and harshly. 

“You need to drink, child. And eat.” Ser Jorah spoke as he helped lower Daenerys from her horse. 

The moment that he said to eat and drink, there was fear that played in the eyes of the young princess. After all, she hated the taste of horses. They were friends and sweet creatures that did not deserve to be feasted on. She did not know how the Dothraki ate them day in and day out. 

“Isn’t there anything else,” Daenerys asked politely 

The last thing that she wanted was to be another pound of horse jerky. The other did not seem to mind. It was just food to them, but to Daenerys, they were sweet and large gentle creatures. She took in a deep breath feeling her hands shake as the bright crimson fluid danced along with her fingertips.

Her whole body was quivering with pain as Ser Jorah gave her a weak smile the rest of the knight’s Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell, and Ser Jonothor were fluttering amongst Lyanna, Meleys, and Enyo. One knight for each woman in the family. Aegon and Rhaegar were expected to protect themselves. 

“The Dothraki have two things in abundance: grass and horses. People can’t live on grass.” Ser Jorah spoke in a sweet voice. 

A paternal love filled his chest as he smiled weakly at his young pupil. He wanted to reassure her that it was all going to be okay. He knew that she took pleasure in training, but now she was in too much pain to do that. He knew that she would get used to pain and riding but missing even a few days of training could be detrimental to her. 

Though Daenerys was staring at the grass beyond the ridge that was as pale as the stars in the night sky as there was a darkness fluttering around the ground where the pale grass was resting, intrigue flashed across her heart and her mind as she stared on with wonder. There were times like this that Ser Jorah was reminded that the strong mother of dragons was indeed a child. 

“In the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, they say there are fields of ghost grass with stalks as pale as milk that glows in the night. It murders all other grass. The Dothraki believe that one day it will cover everything that is the way the world will end. It’ll get easier riding, I mean.” His voice was soft. 

There was grief in her eyes as she looked down at her hands that were still bleeding profusely when the handmaid's notice that the skinner of the two handmaidens, Irri rushed over to her side. 

“Khaleesi. Your hands.” They rushed Daenerys off, leaving Ser Jorah to watch as he noticed Viserys. 

He was stalking off to the dragons. There was this hunger in his eyes as his soiled dirt riddle clothes started back at him. Viserys refused to change his clothes, where the rest of his family dressed in Dothraki garbs blending in with the people around him. 

He did his best to hide it around the other. Still, the moment that they were gone, he would be stewing in his fury, doing his best to take the dragons. Even now he was stalking over to the dragon's eyes and looked at Arrax, the cream and golden dragon who had just landed next to the three young hatching nipping and fighting at each other. Ser Jorah watched him with careful eyes as Daenerys was attended to in the Khal’s tent. 

“Have you ever seen a dragon before today,” Daenerys spoke with intrigue?

Aegon, Enyo, and herself figure it out after a few dreams; scholars must have figured it out long before, so should not there be more dragons other than their own. Confusion echoed deep in her chest as she looked down at each of her hands. Irri looked up at bright brown eyes locked on her as her lips quirked into a loving smile

“Dragon is gone, Khaleesi, until you and the khal.” She spoke in such a matter of fact voice. 

Daenerys was doing her best not to be annoyed; the Dothraki never traveled past the excellent grass sea, especially not a former slave like Irri probably never left the camp after Khal Drogo took her. 

“Everywhere?” Daenerys continued to question. 

Even they must know something, right? Confusion echoed in the young girl's voice as a gentle grin pulled at her face as she took in a deep breath, letting her mind settle as the tent flapped slammed open like a dragon the size of a dog walking into the tent. 

Smooth, shimmering black scales sparkled in the light as his crimson highlights started to grow more pronounced. His crimson wings were shimmering as the thin skin began to grow thicker like leather. 

Daenerys could not help but smile as the young dragon walked over to the pile of furs; the smooth brown leather and soft white furs showed a great contrast to his black and red scaly skin. Smoldering red eyes were locked on the three women making sure that they were safe 

“Even in the East?” Daenerys spoke in a calm voice. 

The shadowlands were known for their magic and their darkness. If there were any place the dragons would be, then it would be there. Indeed there were other eggs. It would take ten years for the dragons to lay eggs. They need the eggs to make sure that no one else could use dragons against them, meaning the Blackfyre. 

“No dragon. Brave men kill them. It is known.” Irri spoke, and on the other hand, the maiden echoed.

“It is known.” Jhiqui echoed

Daenerys and her family proved that was a lie; Balerion let out a furious roar as if to say that he was not dead and he did not plan on being quiet for a long time. A warm smile pulled at her lips as she looked over to her sweet dragon, whose smoldering red eyes were filled with love. 

“A trader from Qarth told me that dragons come from the moon,” Doreah spoke in a calm voice. 

Her eyes were gentle as the bright blue eyes were locked on the Khaleesi; her fair hair and pale skin was bright red from the exposure from the sun. Soon it would tan at least that was Daenerys thinking like it did with the rest of the Targaryen, but that did not seem to happen. 

“The moon.” Dismay oozed in Daenerys’ words.

She was always told that the 14 flames made the dragons that the god gave the Targaryens and 39 other bloodlines the gift of control dragons. But to think that different cultures believe that it might come from the moon. 

While it might seem, foolish Daenerys was desperate to learn everything that she could. It would be a long time before she could fight against a true warrior with a blade. Western knights spent their whole lives training; she will have only a few years under her belt; learning more about dragon rearing would be a great help to the others. 

“He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi, that once there were two moons in the sky. But one wandered too close to the sun, and it cracked from the heat, and out of it poured a thousand dragons, and they drank the sun’s fire.” Doreah spoke sweetly. 

But the two Dothraki girls simply laughed as their eyes were taunting, though Balerion stuck up for Doreah. Letting out a ferocious screech that forced both girls to stop laughing, their eyes were scanning the young dragon hatchling nervously. He rose from his sleep, rallying to his mother's side as he nuzzled Doreah. His blocky square head stared back at her as she giggled, scratching under his smoldering chin. 

“Moon has no egg. Moon is the goddess of the sun. It is known.” Irri spoke in a sweet voice. 

Doing her best to calm the dragon as Jaqui echoed her words. 

“It is known,” Jaqui spoke. 

But Daenerys was exasperated with how they always stuck up for each other it was starting to drive her mad they were sweet girls, but they knew nothing about dragons if it was not fucking. Hunting or horse riding, there was not much that these girls learned about. She did not mean to be rude or crass, but after a long hard ride, she did not have time for this. 

“Leave me with her.” Her voice was sweet but dismissive as the young girls walked out of the tent Balerion moved, flapping his wings gently until he was resting in her lap, nuzzling her hand until she pet him. 

She could not help but chuckle as a small smile called at her lips. There was a warmth to the smoldering red eyes of the dragon that reminded Daenerys that they were more than mere animals. They felt things just as deeply as people and were just as smart, if not more so. 

“Why did the trader from Qarth tell you these stories,” Daenerys questioned. 

Her eyes scanning every inch of the young sex slaves face. She had been free, but it was hard for them to abandon that submissive quality that was beaten into them at such a young age. The same kind of conditioning that Daenerys was meant to go through with her cold-hearted brother. 

“Men like to talk when they’re happy. Before your brother bought me for you, it was my job to make men happy.” She dabbled a healing ointment about her left hand while her right hand was petting her sweet baby dragon. 

“How old were you.” She was shocked to hear the words. 

How could any mother give up their child? If they loved them, they should never give another their children, but this one gave her daughter away. What Daenerys would not give to know her mother and some people happily abandoned their family was nothing less than monsters. 

“I was nine when my mother sold me to the pleasure house.” Doreah had a sweet smile on her face as she spoke. 

“Nine.” Shock and dismay swallowed her, and Balerion picked up on her confusion. 

He cocked his squared head to the side as his horns started to elongate with each passing moment. His head grew more extensive and more muscular with each wild moment in the great grass sea. His smoldering eyes were hazed over with his mother's confusion.

Doreah chuckled at the sweet air princess as she grinned at her. 

“I did not touch a man for three years, Khaleesi. First, you must learn.” Her sweet and seductive voice filled the air as she grinned gently at the Khaleesi.

“Can you teach me how to make the khal happy? To make Aegon happy?” Dany spoke in an embarrassed voice, a bright red blush formed on her face as she turned away, looking down at the young dragon in her lap. 

“Yes,” Doreah spoke with smugness to her voice. 

“Will it take three years.” Dany joked as she looked over to Doreah, who had a sly smile on her face. 

“No. Khaleesi.” With a warm and joking town, both women moved over to the bed as Balerion moved out to the front of the tent to stand guard. 

As the lessons commence, pieces begin moving across the board, and soon, the Lannister would make their first move since finding out that the Targaryens are alive. 

  
  
  



	24. Dragons Feast On Lions

Lyanna III

The eastern heat swirled around Lyanna as she walked among the camp; the Dothraki obsidian eyes were locked on her as they smiled weakly at her, afraid of what she might do to them. Arthur walked behind her, knowing violet eyes were closed on anyone that he perceived as a threat. There was a dangerous shadow that befalls his face each time that he noticed that something was off. 

Lyanna shook her head heavily, giving him a pointed glare that said, knock it off. You are scaring them, but as she looked up to the bright blue sky, she saw the real source of their anxiety Eragon. His jade scales were iridescent in the light, leaving a green shadow to befall the ground that surrounded them. 

A warm smile pulled at her lips, knowing that the only reason that Eragon was flying overhead was that Rhaegar was the one that sent him here. Even when allies surrounded them, she knew that there would be a part of Rhaegar that would think that Lyanna was endangered. Even now, as they rested in the care of a protective knight, she had her bow on her back. 

There was a smug smile on her face knowing that her husband could be bent to her will; she walked along the grass that reached up to her thigh. A warm smile pulled at her face as she looked around the smooth green grass running her finger along with the moist blades. A warm and loving smile tugged at her lips as she enjoyed the peace that came with this meadow. 

She knew that sooner or later that peace would end, and the moment that it did, there would be a long line of people that needed something from her. They would begin their preparations on how to find the next Horde. Aegon knew that he needed an army, and he did not care who was in it if they were loyal and skillful as well as hardened warriors. There were no better cavalry fighters than the Dothraki. 

Lyanna was disgusted with the idea, but sooner or later, she knew that she would have to side with her son when it came to the Unsullied. They would need more than Dothraki savages to sway their hand, and the Unsullied are respected and feared worldwide. 

If there was one thing that the west respected, it was strength. It was not a sense of loyalty that kept the kids together but their collective fear and awe of the power of one man. 

“Lady Lyanna,” A smug and weasel-like voice filled the air. 

Lyanna did her best not to roll her eyes because she knew the voice source was Viserys. She turned around. The enclosing grass swirled around all of them as Ser Arthur stilled next to Lyanna. He was sworn to protect everyone in the royal family, but there was something about Viserys that filled him with unease. 

“Ser Arthur gave us a moment,” Lyanna spoke in a calm tone as she began to walk away.

Not bothering to look at the crazed eyes of Viserys that he struggled to look calm. There was a vicious fury that filled his eyes each time that he had to talk to them, and that look was worse when it came to Aegon. 

Arthur looked at Lyanna, and furious fear filled his stare as he leered at Viserys, his soft lilac eyes meeting the piercing violet eyes of the knight. But he did not so much as speak to the prince. He just walked off in long tense strides as he did not once look back at Lyanna; he knew that even without him or Eragon, he knew that she could take care of herself. 

That did not mean that he was thrilled to be relieved by his queen, but he moved his way up to the hill where he could see everything from there, at least some of it. Eragon moved silently, creeping through the tall grass out of sight of Viserys, who had a dangerous predatory aura around him as he moved closer to his good sister. 

His lilac eyes were crazed yet in control, like he knew what he wanted and how to get it but was still teetering on the edge of madness. Lyanna was disgusted with the very sight of him, but that did not mean that she would let it show. She knew that while this was not the game of thrones, the game in the east was not any less dangerous. 

“Hello, their brother. Is there something that I can do for you? If you are looking for Rhaegar, he is pouring over some ancient text he stole from the library before leaving. Something about dragon eggs,” Lyanna spoke cautiously. 

But she could see the spark of madness that rushed through the thin frame of Viserys; there was a part of her that took pleasure in seeing him squirm for the one thing that he wanted his whole life and could never have. A dragon. 

She knew that if Rhaella was alive, she would be disgusted with her son and do whatever she needed to protect her daughter. Lyanna would be lying to herself if she did not admit that she would have rather Viserys die that day than her good mother. She was a sweet and kindhearted queen who had the ears of many prominent lords in the west. She would have been a lot more useful than the fool in front of her. 

“No, I came to see you, the Northern whore who ruined everything.” His voice rose with fury. 

He was oblivious to the dragon the size of a small dog crouching slowly through the tall reed inching closer to Viserys with each passing moment, his tail swishing back and forth in a predatory motion as a soft breeze rushed through the tall grass. As the scent of earthen soil filled the air as Eargon's tail whipped back and forth, ripping apart the grass like his tail cut through the ground. 

Lyanna gave the young boy a sly smile as she turned her back to him, letting her fingers run gently along the smooth blades taking in a deep breath allowing the fresh air fill her nose as she slipped off her shoes. She was letting her toes dip deep into the cold earth as her brown curls rippled down her back. The caressing breeze felt like heaven against her sweat laden skin; a warm and supple smile pulled at her lips as her mind cleared. 

It was not like in Ebonhead she is surrounded by nature there, but there was something about the serene silence of the grasslands that spoke to her the same way that it did her children. Even Meleys seemed to love and embrace the wilderness of the grass sea. 

“Without this Northern whore you would have no dragons to lust over; it was my children and your sister who figured out the key to unlocking and hatching the dragons. It is my son that won the Khalasar that you see before you. It is my son that will win the North to the throne, something that the Targaryens could never do. So, I think the words you are looking for are thank you. If not for me, you would be dead.” Her voice was calm and taunting. 

A smug smile pulled at her lips as she heard the ghostly steps of Viserys and could all but hear the confusion on his face as she leaned into the warmth of the reeds letting the soils squish in between her toes as she grinned. 

“Oh, and how is that?” Viserys spoke as his stalker approached her in long smooth strides. 

He was moving closer to her, but as he drove at her back, Lyanna’s eyes were locked on the soft bronze eyes that were peering through the reeds. His slit pupils looked on her as his winged arms were slammed into the ground holding up his slim form as he moved through the reeds nearly on top of Viserys and Lyanna. 

“You treated your sister like an incubator, nothing more than a baby maker; you abused her, belittled her, and made her feel small. Rhaegar had some hope that you would snap out of this, but Aegon knew better. He was willing to kill you, to cut off your head, and let the dragons feast on your corpse. But I reminded him that you are one of the last pure-blooded Targaryens alive, and keeping the blood pure is more important than ever. Sooner or later, all the Stark blood will be weeded out after a few 100 generations. You will help with that but the living and creating heir to marry into the bloodline. I pointed that out to my son, which is the only reason you are breathing and get to keep breathing. I'm the only thing holding his hands.” Lyanna spoke in a steel-like voice. 

She knew that she was all but egging him on to attack her; she wanted to see what he would do and say right before she struck him down. She was no fool. She did not trust him, and she wanted to know what he was planning.

“Coming from you!! You are the reason that we are here; if you could stay in Targaryen hands so well, then you should not have let Rhaegar ruin all of our lives by stealing you away!!” Viserys was on top of her now. 

He gripped tightly to her shoulder, trying to rip her around and force her smoke gray to lock on his pale lilac. But the moment that he touched her, the tall grass ripped apart as a jade dragon with bronze accents launched through the air—slamming into the chest of Viserys with a heavy thud, bile, and vomit built in the back of his throat from the force of the hit. He slammed onto the ground, dust rising from the ground. 

Lilac met bronze eyes as the young dragon used his wings' arms to pin him; his long coiling neck darted through the air as he snapped at the face of the young prince. Glittering black teeth grazing his skin as Viserys whipped his head back and forth in a panic in his eyes as he did his best to avoid the black teeth that were trying to rip apart his tender flesh. He could feel the young dragon's tail curling around his feet so that he could not struggle to his knees.

Lyanna couldn't help but smile as she watched him fly about the ground like the weak-willed fool that he was; Lyanna bent down, grabbing her bow before stalking over to Viserys as she squatted down that her brown hair was tickling the face of the young prince. Panic crawled deep in his chest, forcing his mind to go blank. He never thought that he would be fearful of dragons; they are his birthright. 

Yet here a dragon stood protecting not the dragon lords, but she wolfs whore who broke up his family and cause this rebellion. She was better off keeping her legs close and staying in the west. Instead, she had to ruin everything by breathing and being the disgusting whore he knew her to be. Lyanna, on the other hand, almost seemed to be enjoying his panic as her fingers caressed the young dragon's neck. 

As is Eragon was Rhaegar, she let out a soothing whisper easing the dragons as his fury filled bronze eyes began to soften as the long coiling neck moved to look at Lyanna, the blocky square head cocked to the side enjoying the petting that he was given. Soft puffets of black smoke left his flaring nose as a faint screech/purr left his lips as he nuzzled her hand, demanding more affection. 

“This whore is your queen, and the next time you call me a whore, I'll have your tongue cut out and put on a necklace for you. If you touch me again, I will place your hands on the necklace as well. If you are looking for someone to blame for the state of the west, blame the Baratheon’s and the Lannister; they took the throne and held onto it.” Lyanna spoke as she began to walk off. 

Viserys feared that when she left, the dragon would have a meal, but instead Eragon, with a clap of his wings, began to fly overhead so that he was with Lyanna. Viserys knew that there was some truth to her words, but the venom and hate working its way into his heart and mind would not let him admit that. 

But it left Viserys wondering what the Lannisters would do when they found out that the Targaryens were in fact, alive and well. It almost amused him the thought of seeing the cold and calculating man panic almost made Viserys want to work with his family. Almost. 

* * *

Tywin I

Casterly Rock is carved out of a colossal stone hill beside the Sunset Sea. It is popularly believed to resemble a lion in repose at sunset. It was one of the few things that Tywin agreed with the sheep public even now. As he walked among the Keep and lands that were under his control, it worried him that this would be the last time that he saw his homeland in such a serene place.

The Casterly of antiquity built a ringfort on the peak, and as millennia have passed, its natural defenses have been expanded with walls, gates, and watchtowers. The base of the Rock contains large sea-carved caverns. The stone has been mined for thousands of years, so there are hundreds of mineshafts in the depths of the Rock, as well yet new gold veins.

The moment that Tywin heard that the Targaryens were alive and that Rhaegar was alive, he for sure thought that they would call him back to the capital and make him the hand of the king. Instead, they called upon that northern fool Ned Stark. Though Tywin had to admit the loss of his sister forced him to grow cold and bitter. Downright murderous when there was even the slightest mention of the Targaryens. Of Rhaegar. 

He may not yet be willing to kill the small Targaryen children, but that did not mean that he would not get to that point. Tywin hoped that he would make it to that point. He always thought that they should have gone after the Targaryen children, but the previous hand believed that it would be pointless that they should focus on rebuilding the west. 

Now Tywin listened to the soft ping of pic axes as they slammed against fresh golden veins; despite his rage and hate, Tywin was having the once grand castle of Castamere that was flooded was now drained. Tywin knew that the Targaryens would turn neighbor against neighbor, kingdom against kingdom; he could not risk losing power or gold. 

The men were split between the untapped mines of Casterly rock and the untapped minds of house Castamere’s veins. As he stalked amongst the darkness listening to the soft drips of moisture filling his ears as his mind wandered to what the king's next move would be, he had yet to receive any letters from his daughter, who had been sending them in secret. The only reason that he was even allowed to know about the Targaryens is that his money would be used to pay for the fleet of ships that they are right now beginning to be constructed. Trees are being cut down from the Crownlands to the Riverlands. Even the north is pitching in with their vast wilderness. 

Tywin’s mind continued to wander as he made it out of the mines only to look at the glory that was the rock. The Rock has been measured at three times the height of the Wall or the Hightower of Oldtown. It is almost two leagues long from west to east and contains tunnels, dungeons, storerooms, barracks, halls, stables, stairways, courtyards, balconies, and gardens.

In the bowels of the Rock are rooms where caged lions were once kept and cells for the worst prisoners. Tywin had heard a rumor of the massive white lion that ran around the excellent grass sea where the Khals each year tried to hunt down the Lion for himself. 

There is nothing that Tywin wanted more than to have that lion for himself. The Starks are making them look like fools; they have their dire wolves; once upon a time, the Targaryens had their dragons. The Lannisters should have their lions. 

Tywin made his way to the Lion's Mouth, the main entry to Casterly Rock is an enormous natural cavern reaching two hundred feet high. Its steps are now wide enough for twenty riders. Its port has docks, piers, and shipyards and is accessible by longships and cogs. He could see his men hard at work. The loud pounding of hammers against ships could be heard; Tywin had made it his life goal to rebuild the fleet that the Iron born once tried to burn down 

They had the richest in the world. They would buy lumber from all over if need be, he would have the best army, the best Navy, and if Dragons were still alive and he would have married into their line, he would have had the best air force as well. But two out of the three is not bad. A hunger for power gnawed the edges of his stomach, not stopping since the day he was born. He was hungry for power, and nothing would ease that hunger. He would always lust for something. 

Tywin made his way into the golden gallery, his mind rushing to what would have happened if the Targaryens had not lost their dragons. Would there be dragon riders in the Lannister bloodline? Doubt and wonder-filled his mind as he made his way into the massive hall, drinking in the sights of the Lannister from old. Those that were real fighters and now they might be lord of the west, but not all the leaders were strong and sure. 

The Golden Gallery contains treasures of the Lannisters, including gilded ornaments and walls. The glittering gold hanging up on the wall almost seemed impracticable; they would need all the gold that they could get to pay for ships, lumber, and labor. There was a part of Tywin that wished that they did have slaves. That way, he could spend more money on lumber and luxury rather than work. 

It all seemed so pointless to him as he began to walk into the Hall of Heroes where the Lannisters and their close kin who have died bravely are interred. The armor of Lannisters of old are also displayed in the hall. All this talk of Targaryens in the east and a coming war made Tywin think of the age of dragons and heroes. 

Next, he made his way to the Stone Garden, a godswood in a cave within the Rock. It contains a twisted weirwood, a tenth the size of Raven tree Hall, whose tangled roots have almost filled the cavern, choking out all other growth. The sight of red eyes forced him to still as chills rushed down his spine. He always thought that someone was peeking through those lifeless eyes taunting him in a way. 

It was strange that the northern fools were praying to the trees, but there are times like this that he is alone in the garden watching the red sap eye lock on him and forcing his heart to still as his hands grew sweaty with panic as he leered at the tree listening to the smooth shifting of the smooth white pebbles of the stone garden. 

He knew that someone was moving at his back, and since the death of the Targaryens, he no longer feared who was at his end. He knew that the king's madness made him a target, but now there is peace in the kingdoms. With a fat fool leading and his men pulling his strings, he knew that he was safe from plotting and prying eyes. 

“Sir, we have gotten word from the capital; Maester Pycelle has sent a letter.” Addam, the captain of his house guard and a trusted ally of the Lannister walks into the stone garden.

Addam is rangy, with shoulder-length dark copper hair. He is Gallant and charming; Addam is an excellent horseman and swordfighter. He is a daring commander whom others would willingly follow into battle. He is a good man, which is rare in the westernmost kingdom after all, they are not known for their honor. 

Addam was wearing burnished bronze armor, and the burning tree of the Marbrand’s is etched upon his breastplate. There was a smoothness to his motions as he looked over to the man that he knew as his warden and his lord. Smooth golden flakes flushed in his emerald eyes as he locked eyes on Addam. 

There was a warm smile on his face as he held a thin parchment in his hand. The paper felt soft against Addams's callous and coarse skin. In his years of training and fighting, his hands were like leather. Thick and hard to pierce, it almost made him smile as he looked over to Tywin who looked practically hesitant. 

Addam didn't know what had his lord worked up, he was not pervy to his plans, and he didn't care; he knew the better, and at the moment, there was something dangerous about this letter that made him want to hand it off and rush off. There was a sneer pulling at the older man's lips as something flashed in his eyes, something dark that screamed they are not to be trusted. 

He held out his hand and didn't see a word; Addam was more than happy to hand off the letter; after he did so, he all but rushed out the stone garden, not wanting to know what was going on. He knew that whatever was going on, there would be a lot of plots and planning of stabbing this lord or that lord in the back. Addam had no problem killing, but he wanted to do it in the front, not in the back like some coward. He might be good friends with Jamie, and he might be happy that he killed the king to save them all, but that did not mean he liked the way he went about it. 

Tywin watched as Addam spun sharply on his heels watching as bone white rocks went flying in an arc-like motion as she started to make his way out of the stone garden. Tywin waited until he was sure that he was genuinely gone before reading the paper. 

“My lord, they have located Rhaegar on the island of Ebonhead with his wife, and they are sending Stannis to the island to find him. By the time that you get this letter, they will still be preparing for their long journey and search for the wilderness. If you want to get there before they do, then you should have your men leave now. - Maester Pycelle” 

“Ebonhead in the summer isles?” Tywin thought. 

“What could they be doing there” Tywin’s thoughts were filled with utter confusion as he looked over the paper two more times before he let out a heavy breath. 

His mind began to rush with what he should do. He could send people there, or he could let Robert do it. He knew that if Rhaegar made it back to the west, he would throw everything that he had at the Lannister. They raped and killed his wife and his children. He bashed in the head of his newborn son and 3-year-old daughter. There would be no peace for the Lannister, no allegiance to be made only death. He could not let the king’s men fuck up and get his family killed in the process. His legacy would not be this. 

He would send Addam and Tyrion to hunt down the Targaryens with any luck. Tyron will die, and so will the Targaryens. A smug smile pulled at his lips as he thought about his little fool of a son that was resting in his chambers. 

When the Targaryens were first found out to be alive, Tyrion was sent to tell him the news in person but what the king did not know was that Cersei had already sent a letter. 

But this way, there would be two birds and one knife; they would both die in the coming months.    
  



	25. Warg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think, should Aegon only warg into Ghost and Ares, or should the lion wondering the great grass sea also be his?

Jon V

His dreams were ever-changing, but each of them had this ominous air like they were real in one way or another. They always started the same as he was standing in the middle of a meadow, the wind rushing against the grass, swishing back and forth. As the bright golden rays of the suns rained down on his skin, spattering this deeply tan skin to turn brown. There would be a crimson dragon dancing overhead in the sky. Thunderous flaps are flooding his ears like booming claps of thunder. 

Then it would shift from the great grass sea to a type of mountain range where the sands were a khaki color, and there were thousands of hooves slamming against the ground, echoing in his ears as if there were thousands upon thousands of Dothraki riding around the mountain range. He was not a man but a Lion with a wild mane man and a lioness at his side—both their fur coats a pale white color shimmering in the light. 

He could feel the muscle of the lion constricting against the fur laden skin as the wind rushed through his mane. He felt alive and wild and free, unlike anything that he had ever felt before. His responsibilities were gone, only the hunt remained, and it was all that Aegon lived for. He was never freer than at this moment. His mouth was filled with a crimson fluid from his fresh kill; his jaws snapped and ripped apart the tender flesh of his kill. 

Men with deep mocha-colored skin screamed as there was a sickening crunch beneath his jaws; the soft mewling of a cub could be heard in the background; the splatter of blood against white fur felt slick with blood. A thunder built in his chest as his mind shifted once more and this time was the strangest of all of them. 

He was a white wolf with crimson eyes and pure white fur that was the color of snow, Aegon did not know where he was, but he knew the man that sat before him. A soft smile is pulling at his lips as he spoke in a warm and almost excited voice. 

“We have found the Targaryens,” He spoke in a quickened voice. 

Aegon knew by his smoke-gray eyes that changed with his mood that he was in fact, his long-lost uncle, and he seemed to have murderous energy. The body that Aegon’s mind rested in began to stiffen, feeding off the young man's emotions rather than the older northern man. He did not know why, but it felt like the white wolf belonged to him, not his uncle. His mind-melded perfectly with the beast as he stared on with terror. 

“With any luck, Stannis will be on the next boat to Ebon head if the gods are good” This time a woman with fiery red hair spoke. 

Her bright blue eyes were shifted over to the wolf, almost like she knew something different about the beast. But she chalked it up to the excited mood of the man the wolf had bonded with, or so they all thought. 

There was a part of Aegon that was relieved that they were heading to Ebonhead. They would find nothing but an empty mansion and texts that are otherwise useless to anyone that would find them. But there was this more significant part of Aegon that feared their blood lust would never come to an end. Even if they found out the truth about Lyanna, would they ever stop trying to hunt down his family? It would never stop. 

“ _ Why they were so firm in their beliefs that mother was dead. Why go this far? Instead of simply searching for the truth? they hunt us down like common criminals.”  _ Aegon's thought played over in Ghost's mind. 

The Wolf almost felt like it was fighting against the influence of Aegon at first, but now their minds seemed to be melding together like a warm pool of thoughts and consciousness. It was perfect as if their minds were meant to be together. Aegon was at peace simply watching the Westerners from the eyes of an unsuspecting ally. 

Ned turned to Ghost with a small smile on his face as he grinned at the wolf, running his fingers tenderly and gently along with the pure white fur. His fingers were gentle and caressing as Aegon soaked in the warmth of Ned's fingers as he watched cautiously. 

“If Rhaegar is in Ebon Head if they bring him back to the capital to execute him, are you going to take his head instead of the headsmen” Catelyn spoke in a questioning voice. 

Her bright blue eyes clouded with love and worry, Aegon almost expected to see him burst out into a fit of rage like his so-called friend and brother in arms Robert Baratheon. But instead, this calm washed over his face as he let his hand rest on the neck of Ghost. His finger is twirling mindlessly through his fur as he spoke in a monotone voice. 

“I will take his head for Lyanna, for my father, for Brandon for all the lives that were lost to Targaryen madness. If these children get in the way if his so-called wife gets in the way, then I will kill them as well, but only if I have to.” Ned spoke in a sure voice. 

It was more than unnerving to Aegon that he would be willing to kill his sister. Did he just now know that it was his sister that he was swearing to kill? Darkness surrounds him, encroaching on the recesses of his mind like something was pushing him out of the mind of the wolf. Could it have been Ned? 

Confusion echoed in every thought that Aegon had as slowly he could hear his name begin called an utter panic in her voice as he spoke. 

“Aegon! Oh god, what is wrong with his eyes! Ser Jorah!!!” The panic that filled her voice brought Aegon's future back to concern. 

The haze over his mind began to clear as he felt the warmth of something burning into his side that he knew had to be Ares. Aegon could hear the soft purrs of the dragon; he knew that there was something wrong, just not with his riders. Aegon was slowly coming to when he listened to the tent open, and two sets of steps filled the air. 

One was light, and feather-like smooth gliding steps that Aegon knew had to be his mother the other was heavy and concrete, almost grounding like his father's steps. What has got them all worked up? 

“ _ What is going on?” Aegon thought.  _

Aegon would get his answer soon as Lyanna let out a heavy breath wishing that whatever she saw was not real. There was an ominous air as the whole tent turned to look at Lyanna. There was a weak and almost dreadful smile on her face as she looked down at her only son. His eyes as white and glazed over. She knew what he was the moment that she saw his eyes. 

“He is warging; he is fine. He will wake up out of it at any moment. There is no reason to panic.” Lyanna wished that she could say that she did not accept this. 

But she knew with the Targaryen blood that was already flowing in his veins that sooner or later, the magic in his blood that she passed on would sooner or later activate as well. As if one powerful beast with human intelligence was not enough. He would get even more animals if he could hone his warging abilities, and he was not the only one. 

She knew that her daughter Enyo had so much of the North in her that there is no way that she would not go through the same thing. She was sure that if she entered her tent, then she would see that same glazed over white-eyed expression one of these days. This must have been manifesting ever since the dragons, and they only now notice. Would they have even seen if not for Aegon and Dany sharing a tent together? 

Slowly the white in her son's eyes faded, and Aegon began to blink rapidly; after a long moment, his eyes turned back to a bright indigo color as he looked around the tent with utter confusion flashing against his face. 

Aegon could not possibly understand why they were in the tent, to begin with; he heard Daenerys panicked and crying for help. He could feel the heat of a calm Ares, so what could be the matter. Confusion echoed so profoundly in his chest that he found it hard to breathe. At one point. They were all looking on with him in terror and doubt. All but his mother had a gentle smile on her face as she looked over to her son. 

Smoke gray eyes filled with love as they were as light as her mood, but Aegon was no fool; he could sense the grim air around her as she spoke in an almost conservative voice. Taking long careful strides over to his bed. The shimmering white furs were in direct contrast with the smooth crimson scales of Ares. 

His knowing slit eyes were locked on Lyanna as if he knew what she would say even before she said it. 

“Your eyes were white glazed over; I must ask you this question, and I need you to answer honestly. Have you been dreaming that you are an animal, somewhere else besides in your own body?” Lyanna questioned sweetly, not sharply. 

She knew that her son was just emerging from a deep sleep that was likely to consume his mind for a while until he did something to eat and drink, so she didn't want to push too fast, but she also didn't want to pass this moment off. They needed to get a handle on his warging, and she knew what would happen if he did not control it.

Suppose he forced his way into the minds of animals by first bonding with him. How he would become more animal than the man she had seen it with the wildings when they began to raid the North, she would not let that happen to her son to any of her children. 

Aegon wasn't even sure how to answer his mother’s question. It was just a dream, or so he thought, but when he saw his uncle, he knew who he was when he heard their words, he knew that they were more than a plan and when he felt his touch he knew that it was not some kind of strange hallucination but a real scene. 

But how could he explain any of that to his mother without sounding mad, but when her hand gripped tightly to his sword hand. Warmth flooded his chest as her warmth ran over his arms and up to his heart, forcing him to calm his mind and spirit. 

“Yes, first I am Ares, then some Lion in the great grass sea, I'm a white wolf in the west the order is always changing but it was the same three things repeatedly. Why does it matter? They are just dreaming.” Aegon spoke, but even he doubted the validity of the last part of his sentence. 

Aegon shifted his stare first, looking to his father with a weak smile on his face as he spoke in a commanding tone. “We will leave you to talk,” Rhaegar spoke, and the others listened 

The handmaidens and the knights were forced out of the tent by a furious screech that left the smooth scaly lips of Ares. Black teeth are gleaming in the light as he snapped at the air for added effect, forcing the remaining men to walk out of the tent. Balerion let out a furious screech as his glittering black scales shimmered in the light as smoldering red eyes were boiling with rage. 

As if Ares had the nerve to screech at his rider but instead, Daenerys had her husband a weak smile pulled at her lips as she was forced out of the room with the rest. A somewhat reluctant Balerion was rushing after her as his tail whipped at the ground as he made his way out of the tent. There was an almost unsteady silence. 

Lyanna stared deep into the eyes of the young boy that she loved with all her heart. She knew that this would be hard to explain, but if she did not try, this would keep happening. 

“You are a Warg or a skin-changer; the wildlings take pride in it; it is because of the blood of the first men that flows in our veins. But the Northern men are a superstition bunch and are unversed by the Wargs savage or otherwise. Your eyes turn white whenever you enter the minds of another animal. But no one has ever warged into the mind of a dragon. You could be the first, but there is a danger to warging. You cannot force your way into their minds because the time that you do, a bit of your mind is ripped apart and left in the beast. Making you savage, more animal than man. You must be careful.” Lyanna spoke in a sage-like tone. 

As if she knew all about the Wargs even though she had not been in the North in 14 years. It made Aegon believe that there was more to his mother than she was letting on. More to their family that she was willing to admit. Aegon shifted to look at Ares. There was a gentle smile pulling at his lips as he ran his fingers lovingly under the smooth scaly chin of Ares. 

His fingers are scraping against the metallic-like scales of the young dragon that would only grow fiercer with each passing moment. Aegon knew that he would be his savior or his damnation depending on who he asked. But could he slip into his mind, feel that he felt, think what he thinks, see what he sees.

Thrilling excitement flooded his chest as he looked over to his mother, that grim and grave air filling the air once more as he looked over to his mother. Her gray eyes were beginning to darken with a fury of one that screams you must take this seriously, or someone could get hurt and that someone would have been her son. 

“You must practice, but you have to do so very carefully; start with birds; they are the easiest build-up to dragons, promise me.” Lyanna’s voice was shaking with fear. 

She knew that her son might not heed her words, but she had to try or else what would be the point? She could not let him end up like his grandfather. Crazed with delirium and screaming about dragons and burning people to his very last breath. 

She did not want that for him, and Aegon could tell by the sheer desperation that was filling her eyes, and he knew that this had all to trace back to the madness of his grandfather. He wished that they were not all defined by his rage, but he knew that was never going to end unless they ended it unless they started a new saga, a new chapter in the Targaryen Dynasty. 

“I promised my mother I would practice. I will not let our families curse consume me like it did the mad king. I swear it. You shouldn't worry so much. I hear it gives you frown lines.” A sly and kidding smile pulled at Aegon's lips as he traced an absent finger along with the glittering scales of the young hatchling. 

Lyanna looked hurt as her lips pulled into an o shape face as she burst out into a fit of laughter, her eyes going from a dark stone gray to a light smoke gray color that was glittering in the light as a warm smile pulled at her lips as for a moment the grief air left the tent as she gave her son a playful slap. 

“Oh, and where did you hear this from?” Lyanna questioned with a joking air. 

Aegon could not help but smile at his mother, glad to see that mischievous glint formed her eyes as a warm smile on her face. The two of them always had a special relationship, Aegon was a momma’s boy and had no shame in admitting it. He still spent a great deal of time with his father, but that was only because of his training in both the mental and the Martial arts. 

Most of his time was spent racing her mother deep in the forest or practicing with a bow and arrow as she told him stories about the North. It forced a warmth to flood his chest as he could all but imagine the warmth of their hearth crackling back in Ebonhead as they drank profoundly and talked for hours about everything and nothing. 

Or how they used it to disappear when they thought no one was looking just to run about the forest free of all worries and fear. His mother was more than only his mother but his best friend and sparring partner. He could not imagine his life without her. If he had to grow up hidden, knowing he was the last of an ancient and powerful bloodline, he did not think that he could do it. 

He had no clue how Daenerys survived this long; her brother certainly did not help. 

“Mel says that when she gets older, she will be a great beauty and I and Enyo will be walking frown lines from all the times that we worry too much.” Aegon let out booming laughter at the end of his sentence. 

There was a warm, almost smug smile pulling at Aegon's face as he collapsed back onto the bed, watching as Ares crawled up his chest. The dog side dragon should have held him down but instead, it felt almost natural to him. His fingers were tracing along his shoulder blades, feeling the way that his steaming hot muscle contracted under the leather skin.

Ares curled up tightly on Aegon's chest, his silt red eyes locked on Aegon as they stared into the very depths of his soul. Lyanna let out a bit of laughter as she shook her head heavily. The smile on her face began to drop as she looked over to her son, a sad air enveloping as she spoke. 

“You should talk to Daenerys. She was terrified that you were dying; explain it to her in a way that she can understand. Let her know that this is a good thing for her family for your family.” Lyanna spoke as her lips fought the urge to frown as her fingers were probing at her forehead to make sure no lines were forming. 

Aegon let out a throaty chuckle as Lyanna slapped his foot playfully as she started to make her way out of the tent. 

“Don't laugh at your mother!” An outrage yet playful voice echoed in his ears as she made her way out of the room. 

“What do you think about all of this, Ares?” Aegon cocked his head to the side as he spoke. 

Craning his neck to get a better look at the young dragon, the crimson hatchling had gleaming eyes of intrigue like he was trying to figure that out himself. There were times that Aegon wished that the young dragon could speak, no one knew what dragons were like. No matter how many books they read, no one would ever know what a dragon was like until they met a dragon. 

Aegon knew that his mother was right that he could sense a power growing in him, but did he think it would be fitting to start small and work his way up. How long would that take to learn how to control every creature that he could. It would take up time, time that they could be used to find the other hordes. 

They were going to need men, and nothing was going to change that, no matter how much practice he had. Sure, he could learn how to control the ravens but controlling a dragon was the most difficult thing. If he could learn how to manage a dragon, the rest would fall into line, wouldn't it? 

He knew that it was rosy, but he had to try. They would never stop hunting them. He knew that he knew it the moment that he saw Ned and his wife speaking. He knew that they would not stop until they were dead, or they knew the truth, and even then, would that be enough? They didn't have time. They didn't have the luxury to wait and see what happens next they need to be quick and sure-footed if they wanted to gain the support of the east before they went west. They would need gold and armies and if Warging into a dragon could get them that then Aegon had to try. 

Aegon eased his mind taking in a few deep breaths each time that he warged he had been asleep utterly at ease and calm in every way; the only way to get that calm while being away was to take in a few deep breaths. Once his mind was cleared, he opened his eyes staring intensely into the fury slit eyes of Ares. 

For a moment, it felt like nothing was happening but then a searing pain, a white-hot flash that rushed over his mind as he dived more in-depth into the mind of Ares. He was standing in a field of fire. The crimson flames were flashing against Aegon's skin, but it did not blacken. His skin began to fade away and was replaced by the red scale of Ares. Instead of hearing soft, high-pitched screeches, there was a thick heavy, husky roar instead filling his ears. 

There were whispers venomous and hissing, almost like a snake that was snarling out into his mind. 

“ _ You dare enter my mind, boy!!” A slithering whisper filled the air.  _

The wind whipped at the fire that was forming, and swirling sound of Aegon's feet, a thick husky roar echoed as the light around the beast began to swirl and shadows befall Aegon and a massive dragon with a wingspan greater than 500 feet and massive sat in front of Aegon. Thick muscular red crimson hind legs slammed into the ground as he moved to loom over Aegon. 

Thick black razor-sharp claws were ripping at the shadows resting in the ground, massive winged arms were holding the large dragon up it's ever coiling neck darting out fast snapped around the air of Aegon, but he was not scared. With each passing moment, the flames began to fade as he stayed in the strange mind of a young dragon displayed as an adult dragon. 

Instead, a landscape forms the smooth grass fields of the great grass sea, each passing moment a new piece of land created. 

“ _ I am Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, you are Ares my dragon. I didn't think that you would look this big in your mind” When Aegon spoke, his voice was calm and disembodied.  _

Aegon looked at the massive dragon, not sure how old it was; there was a sense of great confusion filling Aegon as he jutted his chin out and acted as if he belonged here, but he wasn't sure how this was supposed to work. He knew that dragons had their intelligence, but this was something else. 

“ _ My egg was brought into this world during the storming of the dragon pit in 130 ac; we were aware of all that was going on when Dreamfyre, the dragon who hatched my siblings and me. You might have just hatched me a couple of months ago, but I have been aware of the world for 116 years. Though this is a first for a warg who a dragon lord is also.” Ares spoke in a calm voice.  _

There was a darkness to his words like this was a breach, something that went against the laws of nature though as he jutted his chin out, the dragon looked overhead, and his lips curled over his teeth almost like he was smiling. Ruby's red eyes were floating in the morning light as Ares lowered his massive, long coiling neck. 

Glinting black teeth shimmered in the early morning light of this mental landscape; there was a warmth fluttering over Aegon's chest as the swearing rage of his dragon began to fade, and his mind settled deep into the mind of the dragon. His whole body begins to calm in the sense of such a powerful beast. 

Aegon's body came alive with pride as he could not help but smile. He was the first, and there was something about that that filled him with a great sense of pride. He moved his lips to speak, but he was unsure what to say to the dragon that loomed before him. But he did not need to say anything Ares knew what to say before he even got a chance. 

Intelligence glimmering in his bright red eyes that were flickering in his eyes as he spoke through his lips did not move. It was almost like he was speaking directly into the mind of the young prince. 

“ _ I am not a weapon but a living breathing creature. I have intelligence and a will of my own, you will be my rider, but I'm not some tool to be used, is that understood?”  _ Ares spoke in an almost commanding voice. 

Aegon's lips pulled into a dazzling smile that shimmered with love and oozed in his star as well as his eyes. 

“ _ That goes without saying,”  _ Aegon spoke in a blooming pride flooding his chest.

He could feel a chord pulling in his chest forming as he stood before the dragon. A bond began to grow between the two as he let out a heavy breath, and as he blinked rapidly, the smooth horse leather tent with Ares resting on his chest. It felt like they had been staring at each other for hours, but it had only been a few moments. 

When he looked over to the tent flap, he let out a heavy breath knowing that he had only been sitting there for a few moments. Ares looked up at Aegon as he had a better understanding of the men that he was going to call his rider. He cocked his head to the side in utter confusion as if wondering what was taking Aegon so long to snap out of this. 

A warm smile pulled at Aegon's lips as he gently scooted Ares off his chest, letting the young hatchling dragon sleep. Aegon started to rise, throwing on a painted red vest with a red dragon painted on the back and smooth red lines painted on the front. After he slipped on a pair of horsehair riding pants and leather boots. Blackfyre was resting on the wall; the smooth arching dragon hilt with two dragons mid roar crafted with perfect little heads. 

There was darkness fluttering across Aegon's face as he thought about the men that wielded that sword, Aegon the great, Aegon the Unworthy, Aegon the youngest. So many of his namesakes wielded this sword, but he would not end up like the last couple of Aegon’s. He would win the throne back, and he would bring dragons back to the world.

He would warg into every creature that he would one step at a time. They needed to know what was going to happen before it happened and the best way to do that is to see into the eyes of as many animals as possible. But for now, he had to talk to Daenerys and tell her everything would be okay even if she did not believe it; she needed to hear it. 


	26. It Is Time To Find Out

Dacey I

The soft swaying of the ship shook Dacey from her deep thoughts. A haze fell over her mind. She looked over to her heir and first-born child. Lyra had the smoke-gray eyes of the Starks but the smooth pin-straight hair of her mother with soft angelic features. She did not have a long face of the Starks. She had a regal but a healthy air about her.

She was wild and headstrong Dacey knew that a man would never take advantage of her. She was thin but had well-toned arms with a slender form and budding breast. She was a rare beauty for the bear island; some often doubted that she was Dacey’s daughter until they saw her fight.

Then there was no doubt whose daughter she was then. She was the only other girl that could compete with Sansa beauty. Dacey ran a gentle finger along with her thick black hair as she grinned at her daughter.

A part of her that was worried her good brother would not see this as a good thing. She could only hope that when he found out the truth that he would do his best to separate Sansa from Joffrey.

"You’re doing it again" Lyra’s voice was husky.

As Lyra's eyes cracked open as an icy stare of smoke, grey eyes were locked on her mother. There was a darkness to her stare. As if she was waking up from a dark and disturbing dream. There was this foreshadowing darkness to the air. Lyra knew that her mother watched her sleep because of her brother's death. But now it felt like death hung in the air all the time.

"Doing what?" Dacey spoke in a cautious voice.

Dacey felt flustered as she snapped her head away, suddenly embarrassed as she stared at the smooth wooden walls of the cabin. Her bed rested on a long-forgotten letter that read the same words repeatedly. That the Targaryens were alive, that Lyanna was alive.

Lyra had poured over the letter filled with excitement and worried about meeting this family of hers. She was the eldest of her siblings when her brother died. She was only 14 the same age as the eldest child of Rhaegar and Lyanna. She was a realistic girl, but even she knew that there was some magic surrounding Targaryens, giving her a starry-eyed look.

A warm smile pulled at her lips as she collapsed on her own bed, taking in a deep breath as she got lost in her thoughts; they would not be at Pentos for another two weeks if not three. At that time, there would be someone that noticed the absence of her and her daughter. Ser Barristan by now, will be telling Ned the truth.

Not shortly after, she left Benjen snuck a man from Bear Island into the capital to hand a letter to the noble knight. Benjen wanted to know how loyal Ser Barristan was. They all knew that he had to bend the knee to live, but that did not mean that he wanted to serve them, but it is not that much of a choice: death or servitude.

"What if they are mad? With if Lyanna is delusional? What if they are monsters?" Lyra questioned.

There was a tension that filled the air. Dacey knew that she was right and that she had been thinking about that this whole time. But she had to tell that Lyanna would not put her family in any more pain. She had to hope that they were on the up and up. Her heart thundered in her head as she took in a deep breath letting her mind clear.

She knew that her daughter had a point; her smooth gray eyes were darkening as she thought about what might happen when they got there. Would they welcome them with open arms or skeptical looks? Would they lunge at them in a blind fit of madness?

Doubt and fear flooded her heart as she thought about this breaking Benjen’s nature if he knew that his sister was not what she said that she was. If she were with them long enough, she would say anything that they wanted her to. They would have brainwashed her by now after 14 years. She would not be the same girl they knew.

There were so many unknowns to this plan that it was hard for Dacey not to worry. She wanted this so badly for Benjen. She knew that there was a part of him that was broken when Lyanna died. Now he has a chance to get his sister back, and he would do anything to get back Lyanna; Dacey just hoped that his desperation did not get them killed or expose them to the crown

“Then we will deal with it. This is important to your father, and if what the letter said was true, then this changes the kingdom's dynamic; it changes everything. The Baratheon’s and Targaryens plunged us into a pointless war; the kingdom should know why and how they were put in that position and how it could have been avoided if we had a little patience.” Dacey spoke in a guilt-ridden voice.

She knew that she was no better than her family took part in the war than that. They only worsened the struggles between the Royal family and vassal lords. But they have no reason to follow the Targaryens; they were foreigners, why would anyone listen to them? Why would any of them follow the Targaryens?

Her mind whirled. It is not like they have dragons to protect them. Right?

Ser Barristan I

The loud clanging of steel filled the air as Ser Barristan watched as Ser Jory instructed the young lordling. The sweat-drenched curls of Bran were rippling down to his shoulders. The deep auburn curls were floppy and smooth.

His bright blue eyes were filled with joy and love as he loved nothing more than to train with the older knight. Tommen, the plump prince, watched on with wide eyes, not daring to get involved in the fighting even though he was the same age as the young wolf, but he wasn't nearly as powerful or ferocious. It must have been the Northern in him.

Bran was grinning like a mad man slashing and hacking, giving as good as he got until welts and bruises rushed against his skin as Ser Jory barked out orders.

“Shoulder, legs. Leg, shoulder, leg. Left foot forward. Good. Now pivot as you deliver the stroke. Put all your weight behind it.” Ser Jory roared as his pace began to move faster and faster.

Until it came to the point that Bran could no longer keep up, but even then, that smile never left his face. All the while, his eyes were lit up with joy as his wolf Summer sat at his back. Summer has silvery grey fur and yellow eyes.

Each time that a blow struck too hard, Ser Barristan could see the fierce rage that filled the eyes of the dire young wolf. They were growing fast; they were already more extensive than a regular size wolf and growing faster still.

Sooner or later, they would be the size of a horse, and they would be a loyal ally to the crown but which crown. Doubt whirled in Ser Barristan's mind as he looked down to his fingers that were twirling a piece of paper in his fingertips; it had a bear and dire wolf sigil on it, so he knew that it was from Benjen, not Ned.

Ser Barristan had been tumbling with the fact that Lyanna was still alive, and he was not sure that Ned would take it the same way that Benjen did. His mind was still replaying the words repeatedly in his mind.

“Ser Barristan, by the time that you get this letter, my wife will be on her way to Pentos. I am sure that you know much like me what is waiting in Pentos and possibly the great grass sea. You are not the only one getting letters. She contacted me. If her words ring true, she will have the full support of Bear Island. I cannot say that the whole North will support them. After all, I am not the Warden, not really. I might be able to sway the Glovers and the Karstarks to our side after all they loved and worship Lyanna. But the others loved Brandon, and they are going to see the Targaryens as murders; they would never believe that Lyanna was alive. The only hope that we have is to win over the entire North is if we get Ned on our side. I cannot go there without the North’s allegiance hanging in the balance. But you can talk to him in secret to make him see reason. At least that is what I am hoping, but my brother is just as headstrong as Robert and just as unwilling to accept the truth. He has not seen it, but he believes Rhaegar is alive, but he will not believe that Lyanna is alive. I am not sure what I should do with my brother, but I will not abandon my sister. I will not lose her again. I know that you are loyal. You kept this secret for 14 years. I know that you gave up their location because you knew that they were not there. Please help me win the North, and that starts with my brother.” Benjen’s thick and awkward blocky letter floated across Barristan’s eyes.

He knew that he was right that there is no way that all of the North would side with Benjen; they would see him as the spurned angry younger brother that was forced to the barren island of Bear Island. They would see him as using the memory of his dead sister to usurper power of his elder brother. But if Ned were the one that declared for the Targaryens, then there is no way that they would be able to deny that it was a lie.

Ned is honorable and no fool; if he could believe that his sister is alive, then the rest of the North would follow suit. Ser Barristan knew that if he could win over the North, then he would be able to come to the king with dedicated support to show that his time in the west was more than wasted effort, that he could be of use here. Luywin died for their king; he could not let that sacrifice be in vain.

“Ser Barristan?” A questing husky Northern lace voice filled the air.

As Ser Barristan turned back, he looked to the Warden of the North and the new hand of the king, there was a warm smile pulling at the young lords, but he did not trust it. He was a loyal and longtime friend of Robert, and nothing is going to change that, but knowing that his sister is alive might help but do so in public with a witness will be a total shit show, and Ser Barristan knew it. There were ears everywhere, and they had to be careful about where they talked.

“Lord Stark, I was hoping to get a minute with you before the tourney,” Ser Barristan spoke in a smooth voice.

His periwinkle eyes were glittering with worry and anxiety as his heart boomed in his ears, and his tongue felt like it had been tumbling in his mouth. He had never been this anxious before, but he was putting his queen and his king in danger by telling Ned the truth. He could only hope that his love for his sister would keep his king safe.

Ser Barristan tossed a stare over his shoulder to see the young lord Bran knowing that if given a chance, he would have hated the Targaryens the same way that the rest of the world did, and Barristan couldn't have that. Not when the Targaryens only crime was falling in love with the wrong person, the only one that deserves to be killed as Areys and he was long since dead.

Ned looked over to his son, not sure of what Ser Barristan was getting at, but he could sense the change in the air, the sense of foreboding that flooded the air. He was no fool; he knew that whatever Ser Barristan walked to talk about had something to do with the war that was coming. He did not like that kind of talk around his son, not when he was this young, not when it had to do with the dark past of their family.

He might be okay with showing him what happens to deserters but the Targaryens that was a different matter entirely.

Ned nodded his head gravely as they stalked off down the hall silent, but both knew that spies were watching one or both. Ned’s wife was elated far too busy to deal with war efforts. With the hand of today, the king tourney coming to the people of the Vale came down, which is strange and did not happen often.

Rickon was running around with joy looking at the ruins of the dragon pit, Ned didn't like the idea of his children running around the remnant of the Targaryens, but it's not like a building could attack them in a blind rage like a Targaryen could and would.

Bran was training, and Arya was running about with her water dance master. Sansa was fluttering around the castle, speaking of wedding preparations in the few months that they have been traveling south, and living in the capital; she was more than ever sure that she wanted to be a queen.

The thought unnerved Ned, but they needed to put up a united front, and finally, the North and the South would be united in marriage. While he knew the kind of man that Joffrey was, Ned knew that Sansa had something that queen Rhaella never had. A protector is loyal only to her.

Lady was a sweet-tempered wolf, but when Sansa was upset or injured, the dangerous Northern winds whipped up in her chest as her eyes turned harsh, and her lips curled over her razor-sharp teeth.

Lady was murderous and dangerous, and no one would lay a hand on Sansa if that wolf were around, and no one would dare lay a hand on that wolf they would contact the North and the Crown.

The Lannister might not like them, but they knew that if the Starks were attacked and no one paid for it, they would look weak by association. That was Ned's only saving grace: his family will be more protected, and they would never be more vulnerable than they are now. After all, Lannisters have been known to stab in-laws and royals in the back. He did not trust them, but he needed to use them, at least for the time they began.

Ned was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice that they were standing mute in the Starks solar, neither of them saying a word. They both had their eyes transfixed on the ground silent, and both men stood still. There was a dangerous look in both of their eyes as their eyes sparkled with anticipation. They both knew that they had something that they wanted to say to each other, but they were not sure how to take it.

Ned looked at Ser Barristan up and down whose body was stilling as his mind was whirling, his bright blue eyes looking over the smooth and stilling gray. He felt like he was in the jaws of a beast.

He could see the crimson eyes of a wolf as Ghost crept out of the shadows of the hall that leads to Ned's chambers. Bright crimson eyes were locked on Ser Barristan; his lips were pulled into a silent snarl like he was feeding off the tension.

But the minute that his eyes locked on Ser Barristan, it was almost like he knew him; there was this human-like intelligence to his red eyes as his snarl fell from his face. His face calmed as he stalked over to Ned sitting as he watched, making sure that he did not miss a single detail. It was almost like he was watching so that he could report back to someone.

“The Queen of the king, I was not honest about who he was married to. Rhaegar did not rape Lyanna. He loved her; they ran away together to the east; they are not dead; they never were. Benjen received a letter from Lyanna now it is your turn to know the truth. Lyanna is not dead; she never was; she has been alive and married to Rhaegar this entire time.” Ser Barristan spoke in a cautious voice.

His eyes were scanning every inch of the lord's face, first watching the murderous intent that rushed across his face. Then there was a swirling hatred that fluttered across his face as his lips threatened to curl over his teeth. Then finally there was disgust at the thought that his sister could ever love a man like that.

After a moment, he spoke in a disgusted tone, “They dared use my sister's memory in such a manner; what proof do you have that she lived. A lock of her hair, a scrape of her clothing with her scent on it, you have none of that just the tortuous words of a Targaryen spy. I let you live, and this is how you repay my mercy with lies to sway me to the Targaryen cause.” 

Ned snarled with fury as Ser Barristan shifted his stare to the white wolf, half expecting the beast to jump at him to let his teeth sink deep into his arm. Instead, he watched as the young wolf sat there. The largest of all the wolves but the quietest and least likely to rise to anger. Though with the loud praises of his voice.

Ser Barristan watched as guards rushed into the room, looking at Ned with wide eyes, confused both the jury that flooded his eyes. Ned, on the other hand, did not doubt in his mind that if Ser Barristan could roam, then he would end up dead, and they would all go to sleep and never wake again. If the Targaryens were willing to make up lies such as this, they would have to fight back twice as hard.

The north remembers, and they would never side with the Targaryen trash.

“Put him in a black cell and let him rot,” Ned spoke in a steely calm voice.

The hated flaring in his eyes, the disgust that oozed with each word, the dinosaur's way that his face twisted in a fury. Ser Barristan knew that his words alone would not allow him to see past the bitter hatred that Ned had been harboring over his sister's death all this time. Only Lyanna herself would be able to convince him. But who knows if that is ever going to happen or when?

They have no allies, but Benjen and his children that would not be enough would never be enough. As they gripped tightly to Ser Barristan, their fingers digging into the chinks of his armor, threatening to drag him off.

Barristan could see the resolve filling the stare of the lord before him. He would do whatever it took to make sure that not only did the Targaryens not get the North that they would not get any of the other Kingdoms. But Ser Barristan could not figure out what they were planning.


	27. Hand Of The King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last Western chapter for a while then it is back to the Targaryens and Blackfyres

Ned III

Ned had never been wound this tight before, and suddenly Ghosted no longer displayed his rage; he was silent and smooth. Lithe on his feet and smart, but now he was calm and quiet as he stared deeply into the face of Ned.

Almost as if his eyes were gagging every movement of what was going on. It had a way of calming him as if he were more aware of the prying eyes on him, and he had to be in more control of his emotions.

His heart boomed loudly in his ears, and all that he could think about was that someone or something was going to be coming for them, and they needed to be ready. The Tyrells might flock back to the side of the Targaryens. After all, they were one of the families prompted to Warden during the conquest; they could feel a sense of loyalty to them.

Or worse, marry their eldest girl into their family. Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys were available after all. There is no way to stay with the horse lord when she comes here to the west.

Ned's mind was whirling the best way to keep her away from the Targaryens, and the easiest way was to find her a new husband, and as Lord Hand and Warden of the North, he was the second most powerful man in the world who was better for her than to wed her to Robb?

Ned was so tense and lost in thought that he did not hear the soft, whispery steps of Varys. Did not notice the way that his obsidian eyes were locked on him. I was watching him from the shadows, not sure of why he was standing there so lost in thought.

He knew that Ned had Ser Barristan sent to the black cells, which meant that he would have to be even more careful about what he did and where. He did not think that Ser Barristan would be so bold as to tell him. But then again, he had been acting strangely after he got a Message from the North.

Varys had hoped that his spies would intercept the message long before Ser Barristan got his hands on it. But to Varys' surprise, the dragons seemed to have their spies that hand-delivered the letter only to Ser Barristan.

At least he thought that it was the dragon’s spies who else would be sending letters to the old and bold knight. That was when he noticed the smooth paper that was resting on the ground; he was kicking himself for not grabbing it before Ned could catch. But the moment that he tried to take even a step into the room Ghost, the white wolf snapped his head up.

The thick muscular shoulder of the wolf began to stiffen as he took a step forward like he knew who he was and not as a beast knows a man that hangs around his master. But a vengeful creature that was beaten and now was coming back for rage and power. But the moment that he was stiffed by Ned, who had bent down to look at the paper.

There was a sizable massive paragraph that Ne knew to be the hand of his litter brother, but he could not live with the words that he was reading. They could not be real; his brother would not be this stupid would he?

But as he rushed over the note reading it one time, then two three before he knew it, he had read it five times. There was no way this could be real, but he knew that it could not be anyone but his brother’s hands.

“Lord Stark, there is a meeting in the small council chambers where your presence is requested,” Varys spoke in a cold voice.

There was this stifling pressure that the lord exerted as rage welled within the man that Varys often thought as cold and remote, but now he was fiery and ready to get into the face of the young Targaryen.

There was a darkness that befell his face as he knew that he had to speak with his brother to make sure that he knew that he was being played long before anything went wrong. He knew that Robert would want his head, and he did not want to have to put him in a cell or let Robert kill him.

He took in a heavy breath gripping tightly to the paper, shoving it deep into his pants, deciding that he would talk about the form with his brother before bringing it up to his longtime friend and brother from another mother.

A small smile pulled at Varys thought that Ned was a noble fool and that he would get himself killed in playing the game of thrones, but he could see the way that his eyes were wheeling.

He had a plan. Even if he didn't say anything to Varys, he could just tell by the long and powerful strides as if he had a purpose and a plan, and it was not something that Varys was going to like. He had lost touch with Maegor and Illyrio, and he knew that it could not be right the Targaryens got to them, but how far did it get. Did they even marry the horse lord, or is something else going on?

He knew that sooner or later, the first chance that he could get he would have to run off after them in the east, but at the moment, he stalked silently having his internal battle with plot and plans. Something that Ned noticed as he stared into the chambers listening to the bickering of the other lords.

"It’s the Hand’s Tournament that’s causing all this trouble, my lords." Little Finger spoke in a matter of fact voice.

The moment Ned heard that, he grew outraged and defensive, he was not the one that wanted this tourney. He only agreed to it because I knew that this was the only time that he could gather all the wardens without there being any suspicion.

The common folk and other lords would think that they are here for the tourney; they would never know that there was a war on the horizon. As Ned peered into the room, he noticed that Stannis was not here though that was not all that surprising since he watched his ship depart this morning. The reply was leaning into his chair as he stared at the table.

Ned had heard that Renly was courting Lady Margaery, but he knew nothing would come of their union. They were better off marrying her to his son. Then they would have the power, and an heir would come out of the Union.

Pycelle was paying them no mind and was looking as if he had something important that he wanted to say but did not dare speak.

"The King’s Tournament. I assure you the Hand wants no part of it." Ned spoke with agitation etched in his face and voice.

All their heads snapped up in shock. They did not have time to be worrying about this shit, not when there were more pressing matters to talk about. Varys, on the other hand, would not let the subject drop as he glided over to the table.

"Call it what you will, Lord Stark, ser, the city is packed with people and more flooding every day. Last night we had a tavern riot, a brothel fire, three stabbings, and a drunken horse race down the Street of Sisters." Varys spoke with mock worry.

Ned knew that he loved this because if they were worried about the Targaryens and the state of the city, then they would not look at him and his plans. Ned did not like him, but they needed him no matter how much bias might be in his information. It was better to keep him close then let him loose on the kingdoms.

"Dreadful," Pycelle spoke.

Shaking his head heavily, Ned was forced from his thoughts as he made his way to the center seat, a blank look fluttering over his face as he crumpled into his chair. The stench of shit flooded his nose as the clothes stuck to his sweat-drenched skin in the overwhelmingly repressive heat.

His head was massive, and his mind was both sharp and growing hazy all at the same time. The moment that he closed his eyes, it felt like the heat would slam against his body, forcing him through the marble floor. His body felt adrift in a sea of confusion as Little Finger spoke.

Ned did not like him and often found him running about the castle after Cat. His wife, but what could he do. Beat him to a bloody pulp the way that his brother did, and this time takes his life. He is at a higher station that would have caused more problems than it solved. So instead, he rested his chin on his hand, his eyes opening slowly so that they could adjust to the light with time.

He could sense the mocking tension in the air; he knew that the others did not think much of Ser Janos Flint; he was a fool and not one that any of them liked. On top of that, they were cruel hard men that would not think twice about killing children if they were ordered, so there is a difference between soldiers and warriors.

But there is an even more significant difference between a soldier and a no-good thug from flea bottom, Ned did not look down on Commoner, but he could see the vicious greedy hunger that flooded his eyes. His lips were resisting the urge to twist into a manic and almost murderous grin; he knew that he could cut all these men down as quickly as he would carve a cake.

The only one that could stop him would be Ned, but how long would that be before Ned could reach him.

“If you can’t keep the king’s peace, perhaps the City Watch should be commanded by someone who can.” Little Finger's voice was dark and taunting.

He talks tough, but he knew that if he were alone in an alleyway with this man, then he would be the one that ended up dead with Ser Slynt looming over him as if he warned him the same way that Little Finger was doing now. Ned knew why because he was looked down upon, and now that he has risen above his former station, he was going to take it out on everyone below him.

But doing that will cause problems and that, in turn, will give Ned all the probable cause that he needs to kill the man that he did not trust. He might have been picked by Jon, but that did not mean that he was worthy. Slynt, on the other hand, much to Ned's surprise, swallowed his rage as he looked at Little Finger, a look of hate and disgust fluttering across his face as he spoke in a tight lip sneer.

“I need more men,” Slynt spoke through a clenched jaw.

Ned could see the hate in his eyes, and he knew that he was right, the population was growing larger with each passing moment. The city was flowing with wine, whores, and shit, and it was only going to worsen the worst that the heat got. He knew that sooner or later, the golden cloaks would be overrun, so they needed to get the population under control.

“You’ll get. Lord Baelish will see it paid for.” Ned spoke in a resolute voice.

He was firm in this one thing, they cannot plan a war to come if violent masses are revolting, so now they need their men controlling the overgrowing population of the city. Ser Slynt looked just as confused and filled with doubt as Little Finger as if he did not expect it to get that comfortable.

“I will?” Little Finger questioned.

His cat's green eyes were sparkling with doubt as his eyebrow was cocked upwards in questioning doubt. It almost looked like he was fighting the urge to sneer in outrage at the man he was forced to take orders from. A sense of rage rushed over Ned. He would not take lip from a man that held no real power.

A man's worth was not based on their purse but their character and their skill at the battle, Little finger lacked any character, and he had no real martial skill, so he was nothing more than a bug on the bottom of Ned's boot.

“You found money for a champion’s purse; you can find money to keep the peace. I’ll also give you my household guard till the crowds have left.” Ned spoke in a cold and pointed voice.

So, there was a rippling expression of shock that was changing with varying degrees, depending on who you looked at. However, no one was more shocked and enthused than the golden cloak commander.

“Thank you, my lord Hand, ser. They will be put to good use.” Ser Janos nodded firmly before making his way out of the room, leaving the small council to ponder over matters.

“The sooner this is over, the better.” Ned rubbed his brow wearily as he slipped deeper into his chair.

There was darkness fluttering over his mind as he thought about the Targaryens, how they were trying to turn him and his brother against each other, all while they planted lies about his sister and called his sister a whore. Saying that she wanted to break her oath with that fool, she said that she did not think that Robert would be faithful, but she would never dishonor their family like this.

She was dead, and some old fool who sided with her killers was not going to tarnish her right name all because he thought that he could win the North to the Targaryens side with this filth and slander.

“The realm prospers from such events, my lord. They give the great a chance at glory and the lowly a respite from their woes. And every inn in the city is full, and the whores are walking bowlegged.” Little fingers spoke in a smooth voice.

A sly smile pulled at his lips as his eyes were shining with a warmth that did not translate to the sly smile that was pulling at his face. Renly, on the other hand, rolled his eyes as he leered at the man that he hated much. Ned knew that he did not like nor trust Little Finger, but no one wanted or trusted him, but it made him think why Renly did not trust him.

“I’m sure the tourney puts coins in many pockets, including yours,” Renly spoke in a smug voice.

There was this dangerous look that fluttered across his face like he wanted to kill Little Finger, and that was not going to change. Ned knew that they needed to get off this subject. He had a letter to write to his brother, and he did not have time to waste here.

“Let's redirect our focus; Stannis is going to be in Ebon Head in a month's time; all the Wardens will be here shortly after the Jousting competition. We must have papers drawn up of the east and the west. Now…if there is nothing else, my lords?” Ned spoke in a cold voice walking out of the room.

He waited until all the others walked out waiting for Pycelle in the hopes of talking to him; he had one thought running over and over again in his mind how the hell did the Targaryens manage to poison Lord Arryn. Jon was a careful man, and they were in the east hiding away from the rage of the mad Stag King.

Yet somehow, they managed to get to the west and kill the hand of the king and then rushing back to the east before anyone could have noticed that is very doubtful.

“Oh, this heat. On days like this, I envy you northerners, your summer snows. Until tomorrow, my lord.” Pycelle spoke over his shoulder.

Not once looking at the lord's hand but the minute that he made his way out of the room, Ned was on his trail following closely after him with Ghost at his back, those same glimmering red eyes that were filled with human intelligence.

“I’ve been hoping to talk to you about Jon Arryn,” Ned spoke in a calm yet quicken voice.

He wanted to get his point across before Pycelle was able to shoo him away, there was darkness fluttering across the stare of Ned as grief began to hang heavy in his chest. He was threatening to weigh him down with pressure on his chest. His neck began to stiffen as his fingers felt stiff and clumsy.

“Lord Arryn? Oh, his death was a great sadness for all of us. I took personal charge of his care, but I could not save him. His sickness struck him extremely hard and amazingly fast. I saw him in my chambers just the night before he passed. Lord Jon often came to me for counsel.” Pycelle seemed like a daughtering fool.

But Ned could see the way that his face became reflective and cautious as if he were not sure what he should or should not say. He is a Lannister spy, and he knew that he had to be careful about what he could and couldn't know that being said, he didn't like the idea of speaking to him, but he needed to know everything that happened.

“Why?” Ned was confused.

Jon had to know that there was no way that Pycelle could be trusted; there is no way that he would have to believe that daughtering fool trick; Jon wouldn't be tricked by the hunched over old man act. He would know that whatever he said had to be brought back to the Lannisters. He resisted the urge to sneer as Pycelle began to mutter about his experience and role in the seven kingdoms.

“I have been a grand maester for many years. Kings and Hands have come to me for advice since…” His voice drowned on.

Ned did not have time for this; he needed to know everything that he could so that when they submit with the other Wardens took place, he needed to give them a reason to stay loyal to the king. Everyone liked and respected Jon Arryn, he kept his kingdoms from falling apart, and now he is dead. He knew that this was not going to work out well for the Targaryens. Ned just needed to focus the rage of the kingdom against them.

“What did Jon want the night before he died?” Ned spoke in a calm voice, making sure to keep a blank mask on his face so that they would not see his rage that was quickly filling his heart.

“Oh, he came inquiring after a book,” Pycelle spoke in such a matter of fact voice like it should have been obvious.

“A book? What book?” Ned questions sharply, feeling like he might have gotten excited as he would soon find out why Jon was killed.

“Oh, I fear it would be of little interest to you, my lord. A…A ponderous tome.” Pycelle drowned on, but his eyes were lit up with panic.

“No, I’d like to read it.” Ned rushed to speak.

All the while, Ghost was watching with diligent eyes that were locked on the conversation soaking it up like a sponge as Ned ran his fingers absently along the scalp of the wolf, not once thinking that there might be someone peeking through his eyes.

“A diary to one of the grand maester you can only read it in old town, but with his power and status, he was able to get a hold of the book. But I had no clue where he hid it.” Pycelle spoke, and for once, Ned believed him.

He nodded his head firmly before making his way to his room. He needed to talk to his brother; his fingers were itching for a pen, and a paper he had to send a letter to the North before Robert found out the truth and had Benjen executed.


	28. The Family Starts To Expand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think, it times for a dragon baby

Jon Ⅵ

A warmth filled Aegon as he watched the way that his uncle's shoulders were hunched over as he was writing the letter to his brother. Aegon had hoped that he would be able to see that once he knew the truth that he would see that his family is not the enemy, but he was wrong. Se Barristan was just doing as his uncle asked. He was trying to win the lords of the North to his side, to their family’s side.

However, Ned was so stuck in his way that Aegon knew nothing short of seeing his mother in the flesh could or would get him to swap over to Aegon's side. But he knew that might happen if they did not get the support they needed to win the war. Aegon had hope that he could peer further into the mind of the young Ghost, but the moment that he tied the images of his uncle began to fade.

A winter landscape replaced the real one; the rising wind ran through the white trees layered in snow. The sky is gray with a pale white light that was glimmering against Aegon's skin. The soft crunch of snow could be heard as he listened to the soft pants of a beast. He thought it might have been Ares entering his mind once more, but instead, it was a white wolf just a bit larger than the size of a normal wolf.

His crimson eyes were glimmering with human intelligence as he leered at Aegon, his mouth moved as bright white teeth shining with crimson fluid flickering against his teeth, suggesting that he came back from a fresh kill. His jaw moved up and down, but his lips did not form words like a person did, but a voice came out of this mouth.

“ _ You have been drifting in his mind while you slept, but this is the first time that you actively went into his mind while you were awake. What do you think that you are doing dragon spawn? _ ” Ghost questioned harshly.

He took a few menacing steps forward as a murderous snarl left his lips, the young white wolf that was now looking the young prince up and down. They had the same hair color as if the gods of old blessed them. Aegon did not understand it; he expected this from Ares after all, he is a magical being. But a dire wolf where they consider magical beasts as well?

Confusion ate away at the mind of the young prince as he stared deeply into the crimson color eyes of the wolf. He was thinking about the best way to say that he was using the young wolf to spy on the man that hunted his family down.

After all, if not for Ned, those pups would have been killed. Ghost knew that the young prince knew and if the memories from the moment that the dog was born were now his memories if he was in his mind. Did they share everything from their memories to their bodies?

Aegon thought that maybe if he could show the young wolf his memories, then he would not see him as an enemy like everyone else did that rested in the west

But even if he could do that, would it matter he was a foreign entity in the mind of the young wolf? There is no way that the wolf was simply going to let him use him. If he tried to force his way into his mind, then he would slowly grow more and more savage until he was nothing more than a beast in the form of a man.

_ “Well, boy, answer me.” _ Ghost spoke sharply.

As the volume of the wolf raised, so did the winter winds of his mental landscape; a cold wind bit at his skin as Aegon looked down to see that there was a small layer of ice bundling against his skin.

He could feel his mind being trapped, and like a whale, he was able to tame a dragon with his mind warging ability. He raised that dragon hatchling, a dragon that he slept, and ate with that dragon. This was a creature that he had no past with. It would not be as easy. He might be immune to flames but could the same be said for ice and snow.

But he was not going to back down; he felt like he was the one meant to have this wolf, and he was the one that would rule overall, and that started with getting as much information from the west as possible. So, he spoke in a firm and loud voice, making sure that the wolf could hear him over the roar of the wind.

A sneer pulled at his lips as he jutted his chin out, making sure that he meant business.

“ _ I am Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name and a descendant of the dragons, and the first men, my uncle, means harm to his family. If I were in the west, you would have been my wolf, not his. I am taking back what my family lost because of that fat fool Robert. Even you could see that he is no true king _ .” Aegon spoke with a sure voice.

There was a dangerous spark to the air as the wolf roared, and the wind began to rise as the ice started to fill Aegon's veins as he watched Ghost growing in size as he started to grow larger until he was the size of a horse. Massive and glowing red eyes were locked on Aegon as he loomed overhead the young prince.

Aegon knew that if he backed down now, he would be forced out of the young wolf’s mind, and he would be out of luck unless he wanted to grow mad and cruel, much like his grandfather and the wildlings in the North.

A fire built in his chest, fueling and driving him forward as the ice began to melt, and there was a soft sizzle of water melting against his skin that filled his ears. A white smoke ripped off his body as he leered at the wolf.

“ _ I have the blood of the dragons flowing in me; I brought dragons back after 100’s of years of them beginning to die. I am not just any boy, and I will take what I want with fire and blood; he would not want to take you by force. You are a living and breathing creature, and I will not force you to live a life of servitude. I have the blood of old Valyria flowing in my veins, yes, but I have the blood of the old gods flowing in his veins as well. He is a warg, but I'm not a savage. He will not force you to serve me.” _ Aegon spoke in a booming and commanding voice.

There was silent understanding as the winter winds began to lower, and there was an icy calm running over them as he slowly let out a heavy breath as he looked over to the young wolf. Their eyes were locked as he stared deeply into the other sights. A moment later, Ghost spoke in a calm voice.

“ _ There is a power to you, I cannot deny that, and he does feel a strong kingship to you, but the Starks are my family; if we do this, it is as patterns and the Starks come out of this alive, or at the very least the children and my littermates will make it out of this they share no fault with their parent's choices. Just like you aren't to blame for the crimes of your mother and father _ .” Ghost spoke in a cold voice.

As he spoke, the ice began to melt and the grass became a bright emerald color as he stared deep into the eyes of the wolf. The landscape changed from one harsh and cold to warm and warm as the massive grasslands swirled around them, and Ares flew overhead. His crimson wings are matching the crimson stare of Ghost. Ghost snapped his head up to stare at the dragon.

At the two wild beast minds melded together as for a moment, they were in the natural space of Aegon's mind. He had two beasts down. How many more to go? Aegon could feel his sense expand and reach to the west like a lamp flickering in the light, shaking his vision from the eastern map to the western one. He knew that not only did he find an ally, but he found a way into the minds of the west of Lords.

He could have stayed in this moment forever if not for the fact that he heard a voice calling to him swear and subtly, so he knew that it had to be a sneer. He took in a deep breath, slowly opening his eyes as if they had been closed this whole time. His legs were formed, and his hands rested contently in his lap as he looked up to see the silver hair angel that stood before him.

Her deep violet eyes were sparkling with worry as she made her way over to Aegon, fear bubbling in her chest, but when she was not working on her swordplay, she was working on her lovemaking. This would be her only time to do this while she still has the courage. She knew that there was always going to be something else that had their attention as she threw her legs on either side of Aegon.

Sitting contently in his lap as she started to grind slowly at first, a light pink blush flushing against her face as she grew more confident with each dry stroke. She could feel the way that his muscle tensed under his skin and the sharp intakes of his breaths that turned ragged with each passing moment.

“Are you sure that you want to do this, Dany? This past month has been hard on you.” Aegon spoke in a cautious voice.

Dany knew that he meant his words, but she also knew that he had wanted to mount her since the day that they were wed, maybe before even then. He respected her peace and her pain, and now she was tired of waiting.

She had the courage, and she had the skills now; she just needed to put them to fair use. She was the one more experienced, at least with prior knowledge. She would make him into the blushing bride and her beautiful dragon.

Her fingers were ripping at his clothes as she felt his cock grow rock hard with want and need. His moans were husky, but he could not fight the urgent need to mount her. He wanted her, and his gaze never left her stare as she spoke in a quicken voice.

Her heart flutters in her chest, and blood lust whips away any coherent thoughts.

“I'm sure, after all, he will take what he wants with fire and blood.” Her lips buried into a mocking grin.

They were both naked in a matter of minutes as they ripped apart from each other's clothes until they were naked as they tumbled off the ground where Aegon had been sitting instead, making their way to the large fur and feather bed. As Daenerys was peeling back his clothes, she noticed the long white scars running through both his arms.

A thin white scar that raced from both of his wrists to his elbow looked like someone was trying to slice open his skin and rip the bones out. Dany’s heart lurched as she looked to see that there was a scar that was running across his chest from his hip to his heart. Almost as if someone had been using him as target practice.

The moment that Daenerys saw this, a horrifying expression befall her face as she fought the urge to cry out in shock and dismay. Aegon knew what she was staring at, and the thought that she would be looking at his scars made himself conscious. We knew that spots should be a warrior pride, a way of proving that he entered a battle and made it out of the fight.

But these scars were not from some great battle. They were from a mad man that entered their home in the hopes of getting his head for Robert. It was only a few years ago, but it felt like yesterday. When she saw the scars, Aegon knew that he would have to tell her the truth about what happened to him. There was no way that he was going to drop it.

Her tender fingers poked at the scars as her eyes began to sober up when she was drunk on lust was gone, and Aegon spoke in a resolute voice letting a heavy sigh leave his lips as he recounted the memory as he said.

_ A few years ago. _

_ The wind howled and roared as the leaves rustled in the wind, as thunder cracked and boomed, and lightning streaked against the sky, lighting up a bright purple like color. The sound was rounding and echoing through the halls of the villa. The wind rushed through the forest, threatening to rip the trees and their roots right out of the ground. The dark black winds ripped apart the heavens and the earth. _

_ The sound was so deafening as the loud resounding crack it was so noisy and booming to anyone else, but the Targaryens family was lost in a deep sleep. Meleys and her father were resting in the library for the whole day, reading about dragons from their shape and varying forms to their bright-colored families and vast legends. _

_ Aegon spent the entire day training with Arthur and the rest of the night with his mother and sister riding their horse deep in the wilderness of the island in the darkness. The silver moonlight bath in their skin. All the Targaryens had a long massive day of work and heat bearing down on their skin. They were two who tried to lift their arms when they collapsed on their beds at the end of the night. _

_ So all of them were deaf to the nose that was created by the two men walking into their home, one a thick burly man with thick jet black hair and bright cobalt blue eyes that gave him the mark of a Baratheon, but he was a cousin of the Baratheon’s at the very least a distant relative. He was more massive and burly like his cousin Robert, but he was not as dumb or brutish. He was intelligent and cold, much like Stannis. His eyes were crazed when he heard that Rhaegar Targaryen was hidden away here on Ebon head. He thought about his luck. _

_ Now he had a chase to end him, and to bring his head back to the west; his cousin would have no choice but to give him the east as Lord of Storm's End. Renly was nothing more than a foolish weak-willed child. Not deserving of their family's ancestral home. Yet he had it all the same, and it disputed him to think that little fool got what should have been Stannis if not his. _

_ The man next to him was no Baratheon but a Lannister, the one that had found out that the eastern dragon lords were hidden away here. A Lannister from Lannisport, one that shamed himself in the war and was forced to be exiled. This was his chance to get back home half-starved, and half his golden hair lost their color, reflecting more of a ghost white than a shimmering gold. _

_ His once-bright venomous green eyes were gone now a pale green shimmering in the darkness peering for the faintest trace of the Targaryen so that he could end them and collect his reward. Both were sure-footed as they crept through the night. Making sure that neither of them made the slightest sound as they came upon the first room. The soft, husky snores of a child could be heard. _

_ Both men thought that if they had hit the jackpot maybe, the young prince had found his sibling; they could have three Targaryen heads instead of one three times the original reward. But when they opened the door, they did not find Viserys but a boy with snow-white hair and a long face that grew more god-like with each day. _

_ His beauty and snow-white hair alone gave him away as he slept soundly, not once noticing the venomous creatures looming over him. Their face contorted into murderous snarls as his eyes had a crazed glint as their long fat pink tongue was running against their lips as it made this wet smacking sound like a dog licking their chops before they went in for the kill. _

_ They had faces that not even their mothers could love, but they savored each moment of watching the sleeping boy. They knew that this was not the prince, but that meant that he had to be a son of the Targaryens if Rhaegar escaped, why he could not see his children. _

_ Rhaenys might be dead, but this could be baby Aegon he looks about the right age. A hunger consumed them, keeping them from thinking. Clearly, they wanted their payday, they wanted to go home, which was how they did it. _

_ Their sheer desperation was what was keeping them going, and as the thunder boom lighting cracked against the sky, lighting up the darkened bedroom. Blue light flooded the room, and that was when they noticed the egg that was cradling against the young prince’s chest; they knew what it was. A dragon egg! _

_ A new sensation of greed filled them. They could get rich and get their home back image of dragons flying in their mind made drool build in the back of their mouths, and they fought the urge to drool with a hunger that was unknown to any beast or man. They were confused and lust for the egg more than they ever lusted for their home. They knew that there was no way that the Targaryen brat would never let go of that egg. So, they would take his arms as well as his life. _

_ The Baratheon grabbed fight to his double-edged sword watching as the metal went off a wicked blue glint as the lighting arced against the sky, slamming into the room. As the illumination crackled to life, it was like it had power because the prince woke with a startling breath, his eyes wide with doubt, but there was not even a single ounce of fear in his stare. He knew what they were here for and why. He knew that the fat mad king had finally found him, but even then, he did not fear him. It was almost strange. _

_ A boy with no fear was he mad, foolish, or just downright dense. _

_ Both men stared at the boy expecting him to call out to scream or, at the very least, beg for his life, but he sat up slowly, never letting his hands leave from under his pillow. They could not see his figure hidden beneath the smooth sheets, but he knew what he was doing even if they did not. His finger was groping for a knife that was hidden beneath the pillow. The cold calming presence of the blade chilled Aegon to the bone. _

_ There was a darkness that clouded his mind. A small voice in the back of his head screamed to kill the two men before they killed him. The minute that his hand pulled away from the egg, that small voice went quiet. _

_ He knew that the little voice was right, even if he did not want to admit it; his fingers were curling tightly around the smooth leather hilt. There was a dangerous aura around the young prince. He leered at the two men hoping that he could act quickly; he threw his blanket back and thrust his blade into the thin Lannister. The Lannister pale golden hair lit up in the dark. _

_ Neither of them thought that the young prince could move that fast, the Lannister, in a panic, sliced and hacked wildly, but as his blade cut through the air, his cut was shallow and panic not sharp and deliberate like with Aegon's thrust as his sword thrust deep through his chest and through the other side. Blood splashed against Aegon’s face; a murderous glint was filling his eyes as his lips curled over his teeth and deep frown lines formed on his face. _

_ The Lannister’s brows began to knit together as he watched the shocked and terrified look on his face like he acted like he was the one that did not want to die. But while Aegon attacked the Lannisters, the Baratheon pulled his double edge blade and came rushing toward him, slashing at his left arm. A burning hot tendril of pain ran through Aegon. He was exploding like a spasm in his arm as the smooth, warm red silk liquid rushed down his left arm. He watched his deeply tan skin begin to pale. _

_ He let out a massive grain gripping tightly to his chest; blood spilled from the shallow gash as he looked down to his shirt, wishing that he moved just a bit faster. Aegon looked over at the Lannister, watching as the foolish man started to fall to his knees. He knew that he had to grab the blade before he fell. With his excellent arm, Aegon gripped tightly to the smooth leather handle of the knife, knowing this would be his only salvation.  _

_ As he thrust backward, blood exploded from the chest like a massive arc of blood came rushing outwards, bathing Aegon in blood, dying his hair a specific color as he looked over to the Baratheon. He looked like he would win the fight, but as he darted through the dark, his left arm limped against his body and his chest slick with blood. _

_ With a sharp thrust of his blade, he reached nothing but air as the Baratheon gave him a sly smile as she slashed upwards as his blade bit deep into the tender flesh of a Targaryen. His hair then played Aegon. His skin split and candy red meat could be seen beneath the split skin. But the desperation of Aegon kept him from collapsing, and the usual sound of rushing blood began to hit the ground in wet splatters as his lungs burned, and his eyes struggled to stay open. _

_ With a manic rush of power, he thrust the short, stunted blade through the throat of Baratheon before collapsing on the ground. Darkness fluttered around Aegon as he swore that this would be his last night alive. _

_ Current Time. _

As the sunlight streamed into the tent from the slit flap, bathing both in silver light, the soft screeches of young hatchlings as they fell through the sky hunting down their lambs. There was a tense silence that echoed in the air as Aegon stopped speaking, watching the way that Daenerys eyes were wide with doubt as pain flashed across her eyes.

She had come to love Aegon and think that he was forced to live in such a manner, the assassins got close, but they never got close enough to be hit by the blades, not like Aegon. She had heard about the possible rape of Enyo, her soon to be sister wife, in a few months to a year. There was a darkness that fluttered across his face as he looked away from her.

Aegon never liked that memory; he remembers his parents rushing in as the shrill scream of a maid walked into the room to find him on death’s door. He heard some say that he had died and that some red women revived him. He did not believe that it was merely a rumor but looking at the girl in front of him.

Dany’s rage and pain were so real and fresh like she felt everything that Aegon felt; he did not know that he could love someone so much that she just met. It was as if every day he found something new to love. Today was no different; her compassion and ability to empathize with those around her was a wonderful gift.

She placed a gentle kiss on his forward then his check before trailing the soft loving kisses down his neck as she sat down on his now erect cock. A soft mew of pain left her lips, but the problem that flooded her body was cold and sinking. Fleeting in every way as a warm feeling of lust ran over her as she ground her hips into them in a steady motion.

She was yanking back on Aegon's black curls forcing his head to snap up as he tried white-hot and sloppy passionate kisses along her collar bone to the soft spot under her chin that forced a soft mewling to leave her lips. An animal-like fury filled them both as they attacked each other as if they were dragons in the daylight.

Aegon gripped tightly to Dany's waist, throwing her under him until he was hovering over her naked body. He still felt rage bubbling in his heart as he thought about that night, the anger of seeing those two men standing over him with a cold look of hate working its way into their eyes as they plunged their blades through his young and tender skin.

Before Aegon could even form another angry thought, Dany’s lips were on his, her mouth sweet like Arbor gold. Her tongue is lashing against the warmth of his mouth. Slowly Aegon lowered his head, trailing kisses of fire down her smooth, creamy skin as she let out a shudder and gasped, mewling beneath his touch.

The silver hair just between her legs was silk with glimmering wet with her sex; her body was shuddering and quivering with want and needed as an ocean of euphoria was drowning her. Her legs were glimmering from the liquid spilling from her soaking wet fold.

Aegon gave Dany one last look. Her eyes hazed with euphoria as she moved her hand to his head, her hand pulling at Aegon's hair as he blew warm air against her folds. He watched her shudder and moaned as she gripped tight to Aegon's hair begging for sweet relief.

Lowering his face in between her thighs, he kissed her left then her right before letting his tongue dart into her wet folds. His language is lapping as her coveted warm hole, his entire mouth sucking and splashing against the silk folds of the young princess. Her short raspy breaths filled his ears. Her body shook and shuddered as the salty and sweet taste of her juices filled his mouth.

He added his middle finger into her, working in concert with his tongue the salty taste of her juice hanging on his tongue as her muscles began to tighten as her manic moans drove him wild. Adding his index finger, he picked up the paste until her words came out in a jumbled mess as she mewls were the only thing parting her shaking lips.

Her muscles grew taut as she exploded into his mouth, her juices slipping past his lips and not to his chin. Her body shook with waves of pleasure as she looked at me through half lid eyes, a tenderness filling her as she looked at me with a new kind of hunger.

Lining up his body with hers with one sharp thrust, he filled her. The warmth of her tightened around him as her body hugged his cock. Her lids opened wide as she moaned again, racking her nails hard against his back, forcing a twinge of pain to fill his own. He knew that she had to draw blood with each thrust, her legs wrapped tight against his waist, making sure that he could not escape her, not that he wanted to.

His body began to tighten as his dick twitched painfully as relief started to fill Aegon as his thrust grew hard, erratic, soft grunts matched the piece of her lust-filled moans. Not one did she looked away from me; he could see the love filling her last twilight colored eyes as she pulled me in a sloppy kiss.

Her tongue is probing every inch of his mouth until we meld into one with a being for that one short-lived moment. The sting in his backless as he held a hand on either side of her so as not to fall on her.

His seed erupted into her as he hovered there over her, love and joy filling her eyes her body grew relaxed he rolled onto his side closing his eyes as his boy raised heated pulling Dany into his arms her head resting across his chest he started to drift off into the first comfortable sleep that he has had in a while.


	29. The Wolves Bare There Fangs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys starting Wednesday I'm going to be putting up the second installment of the; The Age of Dragons, if you guys were fans be on the lookout. I know that it took a while but I like to write out a few chapters before posting the story  
> Also let me know what you guys think, as for Viserys this will be one of his last chapters where we get to roam freely and his redemption arc will be starting soon the next chapter actually.

Meleys II

They were dancing in the air as the Dothraki looked on in utter awe, Silverwing was darting through the air, plunging as her silver scales were iridescent. Once she was just over the ground, she expanded her wings as she caught the wind and darted up into the sky.

As she began to ascend high into the sky. The sunbathed her scales forcing them to glimmer like jewels in the morning light. Her diligent silver eyes were locked on the golden bursting with the light of the sun.

Meleys could not help but smile as a sly grin pulled at her face. She knew that the dragons would be a great ally, but that did not mean that they could be unveiled to the world, not when they were so young, and the world would come for them. She shifted to stare at the other dragons.

Ares glimmering red scales were dark like the color of blood as his silt red eyes were locked on the ground. His eyes were scanning the environment like he was stalking something, and he was not the only one.

The scales of Balerion were glimmering in the light, the black as the night sky, his crimson leaves matched Ares. Toxicana is the only one of the two dragons that spent all her time with the boys.

Her poisonous scales were in direct contrast to the dark black leaves or the dazzling bright crimson of the Ares. Her smooth purple leaves were colored like deadly with jade green eyes locked on the ground, much like the others, but her eyes were far fiercer, and she was enthused. The three of them went darting through the sky, hunger filling their eyes; they were different from the rest of the dragons.

All the dragons were the size of a dog, but while the other dragons were a bit leaner and had a wingspan of 10 feet. These three dragons were a bit beefier, with 15 feet wingspan and a ferociousness to them that the other three dragons did not have. Meleys watched with confusion, wondering what they were looking for.

The moment that her eyes locked on them, something ran through her like a spark of recognition. They were hunting, but they were only a few months old, but they were strong-willed and wild. Meleys thought that they might have been the northern blood that had been running in their veins.

But that would not make sense on why Balerion grew so fast and wild, but even as Meleys watched them, she knew that their growth had something to do with the fiery and magical personality of the three riders.

Bright dazzling crimson flames were darting through the sky, thick black smoke rising from the fire and forming his mouth. They follow on untreated and weak wings, his loves thready and soft not constant.

But that was the added effect of the other two dragons. Balerion’s flame came darting out black at night with veins of red running through the fire. Finally, Toxicana. Her bright dazzling poisonous flames came darting out, the three streams were ready, but when they mixed, they bathed the ground in flames.

The scent of burning flesh rushed over the camp as all the heads of the base snapped up, leering at the dragons with a mix of fear and confusion whirling around in their eyes. Some thought that they were going to get attacked. Others knew that they must have burned something just outside the reach of the camp. The three of them darted through the air, watching them for a moment Meleys brows began to furrow.

She watched on in confusion; there was a rippling wave of heat week and not nearly as intense as when they would grow older. The power snapping of jaws filled the air as Meleys watched them ascend into the sky there, snapping at each other as the three dragons fought over a wild stallion that had been running through the great grass sea. 

“They're wild, aren't they?” Viserys spoke in a calm voice.

When Meleys turns back, she could see the hungry look in his eyes as she smiles sweetly at him, hiding her hate for him. He might have healed from his wound as he was pretty on the outside, but the same could not be said on the inside. There was a murderous aura around him, and Meleys knew that he was not to be trusted, but he was no threat, not with his shadow following him.

Aegon insisted on it. He didn't trust not Viserys, let alone like him; Rhaegar emphasized that while he might have been vain and cruel, he was not foolish enough to put a hand on any of them when there were dragons ready to rip him apart. Eragon made sure of that in the coming days since then, he did not even bother to speak in a harsh tone.

Meleys could not help but smile; Viserys knew that if he did even one more thing, Aegon would make him suffer. Even now, Eragon was stalking across the grass with Rhaegar at his side, his shimmering green scales with dazzling bronze highlights. His slit molten bronze eyes were locked on Viserys, daring him to make the wrong move, turning him.

Arrax was flying in predatory circles flying overhead as if waiting to attack. At one point, there was a childish intrigue in his eyes. Still, Viserys was nothing like the sweet and kind tempered dragon. Now, he seemed more like Viserys, cold and murderous as he leered at Viserys, knowing that he was a danger to the family.

Rakharo was at Meleys back, ready to attack Viserys at a moment's notice, but Meleys did not find him all threatening. A warm smile pulled at her lips as she grinned gently at him, nodding her head as she watched the dragons dragging the corpse of the horse burnt black through the sky. They were making their way over to us like they could sense the tension.

“Yes, they must take after their bonded riders. I can only imagine what is going to happen to those that get in their way or harm them.” Meleys voice was turning.

There was a sly smile on her face as she mocked her uncle as she grinned gently at Silverwing that was darting through the air, getting ready to land beside Meleys. Viserys seemed to soften the thought of the dragons attacking him. Meleys knew that the attack of Eragon put a healthy dose of fear into him.

The bright blue sky was no longer streaked with the red comet, but each time that Meleys looked up at the sky, she swore that she could see the comet. There was a sly smile on her face. She watched the dragons drop the corpse to the ground slamming right in front of Viserys. He let out a surprised squeak that forces the others to laugh out at his weakness.

There was a darkness that fluttered across her face as she looked over to see Aegon. He was layering in sweat, but she knew that it had nothing to do with working out. He and Daenerys had been going at each other like rabbits in heat when they had sex for the first time two moons ago. They had slowly been making their way through the great grass sea, careful to avoid any of the Hordes.

They were struggling to keep their movements slow so that the northern messengers could reach them in time. They knew that if the messenger replied promptly, they would be there in a matter of days and before that, the Blackfyre will have been resting in Pentos by now. They could only hope that the Blackfyre would not greet the Northern ambassadors, or else there would be a bloodbath.

That thought alone worried Meleys as she watched Daenerys walking out, her breast looking to be swelling, and she hadn’t had her moons blood in a while. It made Meleys think that she was pregnant. The thought force a smile to pull at her lips as she looked over to Enyo she is dancing with the Dothraki men. Wild and free taking up the Dothraki dress, she wore wool spun shirt with black tight pants.

Her hair was oiled and braided as she smiled efforts all the while Ago was standing off to the side, not saying a word, but his hand was resting on the arkah, ready if any of the Dothraki men took it too far.

Aegon made it clear that she was off-limits. She would be his Khaleesi the same as Daenerys. Her bright smoke gray eyes were locked on Viserys when she heard the loud bang of the Horse slamming against the ground.

Toxicana descend from the sky, slamming into the carcass of the horse; the steaming white meat burned with each flesh with flames, Ares and Balerion came darting out strong snapping black teeth ripped into flesh as the wet snaps filled the air as Enyo smiled before walking over to her sweet dragon.

Daenerys walked out of the tent after Aegon; a smile pulled at her lips as her bright violet eyes shimmering as she smiled sweetly at the dragon as much like Enyo. She went over to the dragons. The dragons have been acting strange around Daenerys; they were more protective, especially Arrax; his creamy skin was glimmering in the light as his golden accents seemed to smolder with a different kind of intent as he darted through the air.

Plunging until he was nothing more than a golden and cream flash running across the sky as he slammed into the ground with a thunderous crack. His molten golden eyes were shimmering in the light as a dangerous sparkle formed in his eyes as he curled his long coiling neck around the smooth dainty wrist of Daenerys. Her fingers were callous and rough from two months of riding and training with the Dothraki.

She was not as fluid and quick as Enyo, but she was ferocious and sturdy like Balerion and any northern woman. There was a power building power and fury flowing behind her throat. Whenever she fought, her eyes found a way to lit up. She had been nonstop fighting and training since we got into the great grass sea.

Ser Jorah, Aegon, and Enyo have each been teaching her the best that they could. But the best way to learn ways to do at least that was how Meleys felt as she watched each of them making their way over to the dragons.

Aegon's eyes were locked on Viserys as he had that easy-going smile on Aegon's face as his eyes sparkled with a certain levity that did not match his easy-going posture. Sure, to Meleys, it looked like her brother was happy to see their uncle. But she knew better than that between the beating that Viserys took and the silent shadow of Rakharo. There was no way that he could genuinely be happy to see their uncle.

Meleys always thought that she might marry him one day, and at first, the thought enthused her to a gallant silver hair prince but then when she met him. Seeing his cruelty and hatred firsthand disgusted her.

But there were times when the madness swayed and edged away from his eyes, and in those minutes, he looked lovely until that hatred and greed consumed him once more. But now she could see the flash of terror that rushed over his eyes when he saw that easy-going smile on his nephew's face.

As if he had seen it before and knew what it meant, “Uncle, sister, is it time for the meeting? Are you coming?” Aegon questioned sweetly.

That smile left his face, but Meleys could see the way that the ruby on the back of Blackfyre pulse with power. Ares was no different. It seemed with each flash of light that fluttered across the dazzling ruby of the blade. His skin seemed to flash as well as a dangerous red glint flutter over Aegon's face as Ares flew to his side.

The dog size dragon had blood sizzling against his skin as white steam rose from his face, murderous red eyes were locked on Viserys as he nuzzled Aegon's hands, not taking no for an answer until Aegon gave in with a light-hearted chuckle and started to pet his dragon.

He often called Ares his sweet little dragon, But Ares was by far the deadliest and most protective, he was lovely with Aegon and some of the Dothraki and of course, the Targaryens. But other than that, there are no others that he is sweet or kind to.

Viserys shuddered but nodded his head as he looked over to Meleys; there was a sweet smile on her face. She thought that he looked almost cute when he was terrified. When Aegon was around, there was virtually this submissive air about him that nearly reminded Meleys of Arrax. But when Aegon was gone, he was wilder and more ferocious, nothing like the lovely and kind gold and cream dragon.

Meleys could not help but smile as they all made their way into the massive command tent of the captain; it was separate from the Khal and Khalessi tent. The smooth brown leather of the tent was startling warm to the touch as Meleys ran her fingers along with the tent. When she went into the tent, there was this smooth wooden table wrapped in horse leather. Ares and Balerion were sitting on a perch, there were six rungs, and they sat on the top of the first two levels, their thick black claws ripping through the wooden perch.

Toxicana was resting on the edge of the table. She was wound tightly into a little ball, the smooth purple scales as her long coiling neck had her blocky head resting on the side of the table. Her dazzling purple horns glittered in the light as the golden light flooded half the table and the ground in front of the tent flap.

Dazzling venomous green eyes were locked on anyone that dared come into the room; one eye was closed, the other was open, her slit pupils taking in every inch of the space. Meleys smiled gently as Silverwing walked at her side; she crept into the tent as the young dragon smiled a bright, toothy black smile as she stumbled into the room, going to sit on the lowest perch with her hatchling siblings.

A warm smile pulled at Meleys lips as she looked over to her father, who was presiding over the map, his eyes a dark indigo color shimmering in the light as his silver hair slipped past his braid. Lyanna was sitting on a soft leather couch with a sly smile on her face as her fingers were playing with the bronze horse of Eragon. The dragon's long coiling neck was about 5 to 10 feet and resting in the lap of Lyanna.

His wings pressed against his body as he let out soft, high-pitched screeches of pure pleasure. There was a warm smile on Lyanna’s face as she chuckled down at the dragon giving the sweet green and bronze dragon an adoring look. She had love filling her smoke gray eyes as they grew light sparkling in the solar glow. She looked down at Eragon like he was nothing more than a child. Rhaegar smiled gently at him before turning his attention to the map with a sly grin on his face as Ser Jorah pointed to a smooth place on the map that had the words Vas Dothrak on them.

“This is the city of Vaes Dothrak. It is a place where all the Hordes can meet in peace; there are no weapons allowed into the city. It is the perfect place to find other hordes. But you must be cautious. They will not accept a silver hair Khal and Khaleesi, and you cannot bring in your weapons. There is no killing in the city you would be outnumbered.” Ser Jorah spoke in a cautious voice.

His eyes scanning the room as a dangerous glint formed in Aegon's face as he leered at the map, Enyo was not the least bit interested in that. She leaned against the smooth chair of her brothers, her mind drifts exposed, and a slit ran down what little of the shirt that she had told her ample breast and voluptuous from her hourglass shape.

“They don't need to accept us. We will take what is ours with fire and blood. It is like you said they could not kill us in Vas Dothrak, and you are right. We cannot bring weapons, so we won't. Ares is all that I need.” Aegon looked over to Daenerys, who nodded her head.

Daenerys had this spark in her eyes like she knew something that they did not see; she looked over to Ser Jorah, who gave her a firm nod as if telling her that he will back her play no matter what she says.

Sure, they have three other knights, Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell, and Ser Jonothor, but they were the kings' knights. Rhaegar’s knights. But Ser Jorah was loyal to the young Khal and Khaleesi only.

“Vas Dothraki is the perfect place to do this; once they leave the outskirts of the city, they are fair game; we hunt them down one at a time if we take on all the hordes at once,” Dany spoke in a warm voice. There was a gentle smile on her face.

A dangerous spark in her eyes, she knew that the words were haunting her the stories that Enyo told her three months ago. That the Dothraki would never accept her unless she took what she wanted with power and strength. So, she would be the one to lead the Dothraki; she would not let herself be a cliff note on her family's history.

“To Vas Dothrak we go '' Aegon spoke with a dangerous sparkle.

Meleys wonder how well this would go over, silver hair rulers making their way into a scared city. It would not end well, but they were determined, and she knew that she could not change her brother's mind.

At least not yet. But they need men, and this is the best way to do it. But it made her wonder how much longer they could go at this slow pace in the hopes of their possible allies reaching them.

* * *

Lyra I

The scent of Pentos was startling and exciting. People were rushing through the merchant square, and there were people running around them. The aromas of lavender, cheese, and cooking meat flooded the nose of everyone around them.

Lyra was shocked into silence as she looked up to the bright blue sky as. The thick fluffy white clouds were moving across the sky slowly at first, but as the sea breeze rushed through the city, whipping the clouds up, letting them move a little faster.

When she looked around the shadows, she could see a woman with startling red eyes and matching red hair, and shimmering red silks. She could see the way that the women were watching them as if they were clocking every move that they made. But she turned her attention back to the city, hoping to avoid her roaming stare.

There was a darkness to the city though many people were whispering as Lyra and her mother moved silently through the town. There were only about 10 of them, but they moved silently. They didn't let their sigil fly with pride with outraged Lyra, but then again, she knew that they couldn't simply let their flag fly freely, not when they learned that even the slightest strange movement would get them killed. 

There were whispers about Blackfyre and whispers about dead cheesemongers; the soft trumpeting of elephants filled the air as Lyra looked over to see fat trumping bags of wrinkles and leathery moving through the city of a ship. There was a darkness to the eyes of some of the men. Lyra knew that something was wrong. After first she thought that it was just another man killed as she walked around the city, she found out that it was not any other lord.

It was in fact, the lord that had been putting up the Targaryens this whole time, and that alone forced worry to fill Lyra’s heart. If he was dead, doing that meant that her cousins were killed as well. Anxiety rushed through her mind as she looked over to her mother, her own dark gray eyes filled with their kind of fear.

Her smooth black hair pulled tightly into a long cascading braid that rushed down her right shoulder, her mace was resting contently on her hip. There was a rush of panic that ran over her mother's face as she scanned the horizon sensing the danger and the pressure flooding the air as the men behind her were all worried.

They could feel the dangerous air in the city; the heat was blaring against Lyra’s skin, thick buckets of sweat dripped down her back as her mind rushed and felt confused. The heat blared down on her, weighing her down until her legs began to shake with exhaustion as she continued to walk through the city.

They thought that they were quiet, unseen but Maegor knew who they were when his spies reported a group came into the city. He had them followed, and the smoke-gray eyes gave them away, well that and the look of the long face of the starks. He wanted them followed and the moment that Maegor realized that they were here for the Targaryens. The moment that he saw them, he knew that he had to make them pay for the crimes.

Lyra could feel the jaws of a dangerous beast snapping around her as she walked silently through the city, her eyes searching every inch of the city, knowing that sooner or later, they would be attacked any other apprehended by someone. There was a thunderous worry flooding her chest as she spoke in a low whisper.

“Someone is watching us,” Lyra spoke in a vicious whisper.

Her smoke-gray eyes were scanning the city blocks watching as a few people were eyeballing them from the shadows. Dacey must have sensed it the same time that her daughter did, but she hoped that she was paranoid. But when she flashed her stare back to her men, but they were gone. There was nothing but open space.

The men that were sent to guard them were gone, and in their place, a group of smaller men was in their area. There was a dangerous flicker in the eyes of each man, wicked laughter erupted from them, but Dacey was not some lord's wife. She was a warrior, and she would not let them take her, not without a fight.

They kept waking to wait for the best moment to run, but that was never going to happen; the further they walked into the city far from the port, the more danger to put himself in. Maegor was waiting in silence at the other end of the town and with each step that they took, their muscle began to wound tightly.

His hatred flaring in his chest as he stood firm and resolute in his decision; he would torture them. Rape them, and when he had his fill and knew everything that he needed to know, he would kill them and send their heads into the great grass sea.

He knew that he couldn't go after the khal, but at the very least, he could make them feel his pain; when he found them gone, he was filled with fury, and he would never stop until all the Targaryens, and the Starks were dead. Dacey and Lyra did not realize it until it was too late that they were frightened in front of Maegor when he gave them a cruel smile.

He watched the way that their face lit up in relief like they had found their long lost relative, but the moment that they saw the darkness in his eyes, the hatred in his stare was the way that his body tensed with murderous need. I knew that he was not a true Targaryen, and that worried them more than anything.

“Lady Dacey, I presume, which makes you one of her daughters.” Maegor's voice was cruel.

He turned to look at Dacey, whose heart stilled, Lyra on the other hand, had a sneer; her lips were curling over her teeth. His eyes the color of the night sky as they blackened with rage; the moment that she saw him, she knew that he was not a Targaryen. Not with the dangerous sparkle in her eyes and not when she learned that all the Targaryens left with their Khalasar.

“Blackfyre scum,” Lyra spit at the young prince.

There was a darkness in her eyes as her shoulders shook with murderous fury, her fingers were tense, and her jointed ached to wish for nothing more than to kill the dumb little prince. Her fingers were moving slowly to the leather handle for the mace ready to bash his head in, but he just gave her that smug smile as he grinned at him.

“Take them to the manse,” Maegor spoke in a harsh voice.

Lyra rushed, gripping tightly to her mace and slamming the mace against the air, hoping to get the face of the young false prince. He danced out the way but not in time. The smooth serrated spikes of the mace slashed against his face as he sneered. Blood dripped down his face as a light gashed began to redden and bleed as it ran against his face.

He lifted a hand, watching his hand covered in a crimson fluid, and a new kind of rage-filled him, but before Lyra could attack him again, her hands were bound tightly behind her back. Her shoulder twisted at the wrong angle and a pain-filled moan left her lips as her mind raced, and her heart went numb. She was fighting against their hold, paranoia, and rage filling her heart as she screamed curses until her voice was hoarse.

By the time that she calmed they have locked away in the dungeon, the same dungeon that held the once-great Ser Gerold. Lyra sat in the cell, and she was not deflated in defeat like a few of the men they had brought with them. Instead, she was boiling with rage slammed against the smooth gray bars of the cell. Her scream could be heard through the castle and finally, Jon just could not take it any longer.

Lyra did not understand why this was happening to them; she was told that there would be allies in the east, not this scum. She pounded against the bars screaming until she was red in the face.

“What is the meaning of all this screaming?” Jon roared with fry.

There was a sneer on his face as his bright blue eyes popped out in defiance. He was walking stiffly but with pride and purpose. Lyra does not understand why they were doing this; why would the best friend of Rhaegar side against Rhaegar.

Instead, they went against him and everything that he risked being with the women he loved, and now this so-called friend comes and tries to stop them from getting what they want from their family.

Confusion flooded Jon the same way that it flooded the young girl in front of him, his crimson hair fading in the night light as he looked at the young girl. He could see the fury filling her stare; her hands were red and raw from the pounding of her fist against the bars. He knew that the Starks were angry with the Targaryens but to think that they would come after a child in mourning did their hatred have no bounds.

“What is wrong with you? Are you such a dumb bitter cunt that you would stand in our way, your southern trash!!” Lyra roared.

Making sure that each word that she spoke oozed with a vicious fury, it looked as if there was steamrolling off her body. She could see the dismay filling his stare; there was this childlike worry that was serving Jon’s stare.

His heart boomed in his chest, not sure of what was going on. But Lyra knew she might not have been fooled by the lie of the Blackfyre brat, but that did not mean that the same could be said for Jon.

“You are a dumb cunt. Did he tell you that he was a Targaryen? Are you that desperate!! Rhaegar isn't dead, he….” Lyra’s voice was cut off.

Her mind was burning as were her lungs; Maegor was hidden in the darkness watching them this whole time his hand was curled around her throat, a thick red bandage resting on his face. Matching his twisted mental desperation, the hatred filling in his stare meant that he was ready to kill. But he knew that not just, yet they had to wait until the time was right until they milked every piece of information out of them before he killed them.

But the desperation in his eyes told Lyra that he knew the truth, and he was doing his best to try and hide the sheer terror that flashed across his eyes. Now that Lyra was looking at them, she noticed that they were not violet at all like the dead baby Aegon but a smooth blue that sometimes-flashed violet in the right light. 

Jon looked at his prince, utterly confused and filled to the brim with dismay at what was going on, Jon looked over to Aegon, but he covered up his desperation well with a new kind of fury. 

“Don't speak my father's name, you Northern cunt, and don't even think about spilling lies about my family to manipulate Jon. He is like a father to me, and I won't have you twisting his mind,” He spoke in aroused voice, bloodlust oozing in his voice.

Lyra laughed through her burning lungs and clenched up the throat. But she did not speak instead, she gave Jon a cunning smile, smiling through the pina as this smugness flooded her.

“Your so fucking dead your all dead, and I'm not telling you shit!!” Lyra spits at Maegor the Jon.

There was darkness running across her face as she dropped to the ground, not brother to scramble to get up. She knew the seeds of doubt were sown, and she could already see them taking root as the blue eyes of Jon darkened. She could see the wheels turning in his mind.

Lyra could only hope that it would be enough to get him to let them go.

The air was moist and plump against Lyra’s skin; her lungs were still burning with pain and a desperate need for oxygen. It had been a few hours, but there was no real way of knowing that. It could have been a few minutes or even a few days. There was no concept of time, not when there was no light or darkness to tell day from night.

“They are playing him for a fool; the might Jon Connington, the fool that couldn't catch Robert Baratheon now the fool that didn't even know his lord and friend is alive and well,” Dacey spoke in a smooth voice.

Her eyes were darkening with pity as the rest of the men grumbled with rage as they thought about the fool that had put them in here. Lyra could not help but pity the fool to believe that he was so desperate to see Rhaegar again that he would do anything, believe anything. For a long while, there was nothing to say. The silence settled deeply over the small group of northern warriors.

What none of them knew was that someone was watching them from the shadows, wondering if they were worth saving or not. The ruby on her neck began to pulse with heat, lighting up the darkness as she stalked a little bit closer. The red women had noticed the Starks when they were making their way into the city.

She could see the confusion in their eyes as they searched, and more than that, she could see in the flames that they were looking for the prince that was promised. She could see them in the fire. The prince's company would be skeptical, but there was one sure thing winning their favor. Stones burned into her side; three of them ripped into her skin.

The sizzling heat was almost too much for her to bear. The red women knew that only the dragon's blood could wake them from stone. The prince promised would need these eggs; the red women did not know why, but she knew that the prince that was pledged to needed these, and he needed these women.

She had been creeping about the castle for a few days thinking that Maegor was the prince that promised she was ready to give him the dragon eggs when the flames became clearer. It was a snow-haired prince with bright indigo eyes, not blue eyes, prince, and silver hair. She made that mistake; she will not make the mistake of giving him three dragon eggs while she was at it.

Her fingers curled over soft iron keys cold to the touch while the greasy nap sack was filled with burning rocks. With each step that she carefully took out of the shadows, Dacey and Lyra watched her walk out of the shadows. They took in every inch of the red women they had seen her lurking in the streets and even in the villa when they were first brought into the mansion.

But they could get a better look at her now; she is a beautiful woman by many. She has long hair, the color of deep burnished copper, unsettling red eyes, and pale, unblemished skin. The priestess is slender, graceful, and taller than most knights.

Melisandre has full breasts, a narrow waist, and a heart-shaped face. As is the custom of the red priests of her faith, Melisandre always dresses in long red fabric. She wears bloodred fabric underneath a silk gown the color of bright fire on one occasion; the priestess also wears a scarlet cloak.

She is never without a red gold choker containing a ruby which fits tightly around her neck. It was through this ruby that she was able to find the eggs in the lands beyond the Asshai. Now she held them, and as she gripped tightly to her keys, she was surer now than ever that she was meant to let this Northern warrior out of their cage.

There was darkness running across her face as Lyra sneered at the woman's fury, smoldering in her eyes as she spoke in a murderous voice.

“Come here to taunt us?” Lyra roared with fry.

But Melisandra looked over his shoulder to see no one there; her rage was directed at the red women, not anyone else that might be sneaking behind her. She knew that if the young lady continued to roar like this, then they would all be dead. Carefully she moved to the lock with quick hands, and she ignored the cool biting keys.

“I'm here to release you; the prince you seek is in the great grass sea, making his way to Vas Dothrak. You will find them there, and you will need this.” Melisandra spoke in a smooth yet quickened voice.

Carefully she moved her hand over to the pouch as the doors began to open, as Lyra felt a spike of skepticism and confusion. There were doubt and fury flooding her stare and her heart. What could be the meaning of this.

She looked over to the bag, her hands shaking with anticipation. She could sense a heat coming off the bag. She knew that there was something hidden within that would change all their perception.

The moment that she saw the bag, she couldn't stop the intrigue from filling her chest as her fingers cruelly around the satchel. The smooth knapsack was running against her skin, but when she grabbed the sack, she didn't feel that same heat that she had sensed it was gone. But when she pulled open the bag, she could not understand what she was seeing. They were three sons.

One of the stones was a deep ocean blue stone-colored, while the other stone had the left half of the stone be icy blue and the other side a crimson red. The final stone was dazzling emerald green with golden specks. She did not understand why she would need these stones, but Dacey's eyes widened with doubt.

“Dragon eggs? Why would anyone need this stone?” Dacey spoke in a cold voice.

Melisandra found it amusing as she stared at the two women. One was ignorant and bored. The other knew and still did not understand. There was a sense of foreshadowing rushing over the group. All their eyes locked on the bright red-eyed women.

“They will know what to do with them; you just need to take them the eggs, go quickly before they notice that I have helped you. He is the prince that was promised he must have the eggs.” Melisandra spoke quickly, not giving them the chance to speak.

She disappeared into the shadows forcing them to stare and wonder why on earth she would let them go or what the prince that was promised even meant. Confusion ate away at them, but they were not going to wait to see who comes next; they were getting out of here quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it is taking a bit longer to get to the west but I want to make sure to highlight every inmportant detail of my storylines but starting next chapter there is going to be some time skips and battles.


	30. One Horde Down 5 To Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of action for you, the next chapter is Vaes Dothrak and the rest waste as well as Benjen in the west and getting some allies, and Maegor you cant forget him.

Daenerys Ⅵ

They had been practicing her Dothraki for hours, but Daenerys was starting to lose her patience. She was exhausted from practicing the same two words. It was driving her mad, but she finally got the word right, and she could not help but smile.

“Yes, Khaleesi,” Irri spoke in a smooth voice.

There was a proud smile pulling at her face; Balerion could sense his mother's joy and let out a billowing screech from outside the tent. He was dancing in the sky. Arrax let out a soft purr as he continued to rest his head in her lap. His skin was sizzling to the touch, but to Daenerys, it was nothing more than smooth, warm skin.

His golden horns were shimmering in the light as Daenerys ran her fingers behind the horns, her fingers racking against his skin. A sly smile on her face as his molten golden eyes were hidden beneath cream color lids.

With each passing day, the highlights in her body grew more and more pronounced. Running down his neck and underbelly and the thin membrane of his wings were glowing golden with each passing day.

She was looking down at the dragon, not noticing the smooth hand of Irri as she began to feel her breast. Cupping and squeezing as a flush of embarrassment rushed over Daenerys as she looked at her handmaiden. An appalled feeling ran over her as she started to speak, and her face turned white hot as she knew that there was going to be a blush rushing against her tanning skin.

“Oh, what are you doing?” Shock and dismay filled Daenerys’ voice.

She stared into the obsidian eyes of Irri. She could tell that Irri did not find anything wrong with what she was doing. There was even a warm smile on her face like she was the one dealing with the confused child and not the other way around. The moment that their eyes locked, Irri spoke in a warm voice.

“When was the last time you bled, Khaleesi?” Irri questions in a broken common tongue.

Arrax was stirred from his sleep as he looked up at Dany with confusion filling his childlike golden eyes. The way that he cocked his head to the side remained Dany of a child that was told that they did something wrong but did not understand what. Dany felt the same way, but she had no answer to her question. She could not remember the last time that she had her moon's blood; it had to be before they came to the great grass sea.

“You change, Khaleesi,” Irri spoke with hope in her voice.

Dany’s own heart fluttered in her chest, her tone was dry with anticipation, and her mind was whirling. Could she have a little dragon growing in her. Would that make sense of why the dragons had been so protective of her?

She thought it was because of all the bumps and bruises that litter her skin from her long days of practice and training. But they must have seen that she was pregnant long before anyone even noticed.

All Dany wanted to do was tell Aegon that her excitement began to build, bile and venom started to build in the back of her throat. Hunger gnawed at the edge of her stomach as she placed a firm hand on her mouth. She was fighting the urge to vomit as she rushed over to silver and golden basin.

She dropped to her knees as her throat began to contract, and bile began to fill her mouth, tears tasting her eyes as a rancid smell began to fill the air as her jaw snapped open no matter how hard she tried to keep her mouth shut. Bright green and brown liquid spilled from her lips and hit the basin with a sickening slosh.

Her stomach was doing backflips as she fought the urge to collapse from exhaustion. Her eyes were struggling to stay open as she shut them refusing to look at the vomit. Her throat began to contrast, and a strong gust of wind rushed through the tent, ripping the flaps open. She could feel a soft hand running around the small of her back and having a way to ground her as Irri spoke in a quickened voice.

“Khaleesi, you have the sickness, the great stallion has blessed you and the khal; with any luck, you will have a boy,” Irri spoke in a quick and joyful voice.

But Daenerys felt no joy when her throat contracted for a third time, but only this time, there was only acid filling her mouth as the white liquid spilled from her parted lips. Her chest was heaving heavily, struggling to breathe. Her legs were shaking even though she was sitting on her knees, she could barely stay up.

After a long moment, nausea began to ebb, and her mind began to clear she had to tell Aegon, but she was starving. She looked over to Irri, a warm smile on her face as vomit dribbled down her lips as Arrax let out soft worry screeches rushing over to his mother's side. She was nuzzling her side as he let out soft purrs and whimpers, letting her know that she was not alone.

The rancid smell of vomit filled the tent as she resided the urge to vomit once more; her body was heated and not in a right way. She was fighting the urge to close her eyes and sleep right there on the floor. Careful and on unsteady foot, not lightheaded from having no food in her system.

She crawled onto the bed; the smooth fur felt like soft clouds resting against her skin; her eyes were growing heavy as she was suddenly tired. Her eyes were closing slowly as she resisted the urge to sleep; she had to talk to Aegon. Arrax let out a worried screech as he loomed over his mother. His molten golden eyes were locked on Daenerys, the fear and worry etched in his scaly face.

At that moment, Daenerys watched the way that Arrax’s eyes went white, a glossy white color, at first Daenerys thought that she was seeing things. Still, a few moments later the tent flap was thrown back and Aegon walked in, a fury filling his indigo eyes as he looked over to Irri.

“What happened to her” Aegon was struggling to keep his composure

Sure, there was fury in his eyes, but Daenerys was no fool; she knew that he was not the least bit angry; he had a cold, stilling terror in his eyes as they darken. He laid behind Daenerys, running a gentle hand along her back as his fingers were running gently through her molten silver hair. The slick hair was dampened with sweet, forcing the color to darken.

There was hate filling his stare as he shifted to look at the basin, which caused the rancid smell that was flooding the tent that was already filling with the oppressive heat. Both of their bodies were slick with sweat, their skin itchy and irate, but each day, they got a little bit more used to it.

“She is with a child and got sick. It is a blessing.” Irri spoke again

Aegon could not help but feel a sense of relief, as he looked over to his wife. The young woman had a small and sly smile on her face. There was joy filling her stare as she spoke in a feathery and weak voice.

“I'm a bit hungry from all the vomiting, but I refuse to eat a horse.” Daenerys' voice was starting to grow more robust when it came to eating the horse.

Aegon gave her a weak smile, pride blooming in his chest as he looked over to Irri, letting out a heavy sigh as he cautioned to lay down with Daenerys.

“Get her whatever she wants,” Aegon spoke in a commanding voice.

Making sure that his Khalessi got anything that she wanted now would be more important than ever to get to Vaes Dothrak so that there would be a stable home for her to give birth in, at least for the moment.

* * *

Ser Jorah I

“It’s a blessing from the Great Stallion. For a man on horseback, the curved blade is a good thing, easier to handle. It is a good weapon for a Dothraki. But a man in the full plate the arkah won’t get through the steel.” Ser Jorah spoke.

Running his hands along with the smooth steel armor that he was wearing as he continued to speak to the young Rakharo whose wide obsidian eyes were staring intensely into Ser Jorah, soaking up each of his words. Ser Jorah thought that it was a good idea to teach the Dothraki how to fight the western men to stand a better chance against the men when they went to the West.

“That’s where the broadsword has the advantage. Designed for piercing plate.” To empathize with the point, he took the tip of his blade and poked at his hand to prove the point.

That was when Rakharo responded to the older knight, his bright blue eyes sparkling with wonder, and the young man began to grasp the concept with each passing moment that they spoke.

“Dothraki, don’t wear steel dresses.” Rakharo spoke in Dothraki

“Armour.” Ser Jorah spoke.

“Armour.” Rakharo echoed the room

There was an understanding that washed over Rakharo as he nodded his head as he tried to articulate his words in the common tongue.

“Armour makes a man, erm…” He struggled to find the words

“Slow.” Ser Jorah assured him.

“Slow.” Rakharo nodded slowly as he spoke the word.

Ser Jorah could not help but smile as he looked over to the young man as he spoke in a sure voice.

“It’s true, but it also keeps a man alive. My father taught me how to fight. He taught me that speed defeats size. I’ve heard that your father was a famous warrior.” Ser Jorah spoke warmly.

Though there was something broken within him as he thought about his father that was resting at the wall, and his cousins and aunt that he barely knew, all for a woman that could never love him back.

Maybe this time, things would be different. He was coming home with dragons and the rightful king and queen of the west. He would earn his way back into his home. He would never take the island before, but I would, at the very least, be a proud bear of Mormont Island once more.

“He was a blood rider to Khal Bharbo. And your father, Jorah the Andal? He was a warrior also?” Rakharo spoke; there was a warmth to his stare as he looked more than ever interested in the lecture.

“He still is. A man of great honour, and I betrayed him…” Before he could even finish his sentence, Irri rushed into the room.

Her eyes were hard and determined, and Dothraki rippled off her lips as she jutted her chin out and looked down on Rakharo. Though Ser Jorah saw how she looked at him the moment that he was not looking at her.

“The Khaleesi wants to eat something different tonight. Kill some rabbits.” She spoke in a commanding aura.

Ser Jorah knew that the fire of Daenerys was now filling her the same way that it serves the young princess that was growing with each passing moment.

“There are no rabbits,” Rakharo spoke with a smug smile on his face.

“Find some ducks; she likes ducks.” Irri challenged.

Her eyes were filled with determination as she sneered at the young man looking up at her like he knew more than her. There was a smug smile on his face as he spoke in a harsh and almost taunting voice. Though Ser Jorah could tell there was a kidding warmth to his voice, he did not hate the young maiden.

“Have you seen any ducks, woman? No rabbits, no ducks. Do you have eyes in your head?” Rakharo spoke in a warm voice.

Ser Jorah had to hide a smile as he watched the two of them laughing like an old married couple.

“Do you? Dog then. I have seen many dogs.” Irri spoke in a quickened voice.

Ser Jorah knew that while the princess hated eating horse, she would hate eating dog even more, and he did not understand why he would even care about what she ate. She hated it, but she was used to it, and he knew that she didn't want to be thought of as weak or lacking any skill, and if she whined about food, she knew that she would never get their respect.

“I don’t think she wants to eat dogs.” Ser Jorah spoke sweetly.

He was doing his best to heal the tension between the two young Dothraki, but he knew that his kind words would not be enough to ease the stress and heated argument between the two of them. There was a shift in the air and Ser Jorah knew that there was something big coming their way even if they did not realize it until it was too late.

“The Khaleesi have a baby inside her. It is true. She does not bleed for two moons. Her belly starts to swell. A blessing from the Great Stallion. She does not want to eat a horse.” She spoke with power and convection.

Her obsidian eyes were locked on Ser Jorah and Rakharo; Irri was not leaving until she got a definite answer, and when she spoke again, she did so in a rushed voice.

“The khal said to give her whatever she wants. Do you plan on telling him no. Ares will eat your balls,” Irri taunted, a sly smile on her face and a dark twinkle in her eyes.

She knew that there is no way that anyone would deny Aegon they adored him, but they also feared him; they had a healthy mix of both for their ruler. Ser Jorah's hearted quicken as he nodded his head quickly.

“I’ll have the boys butcher a goat for supper….” Ser Jorah was speaking, but his voice was cut off.

A thunderous screech filled the air as Ares let out another protective screech, they could hear the distant pounding of hooves rushing against the ground as the scent of hay, and the wild panic of the new horses filled the air. The horses of the Dothraki were used to the princess of the dragons. They had been around them since they were hatchling but the same could not be said for the other animals.

Any animals that are around the dragon seemed to grow frantic and filled to the brim with terror; they did their best to run away, so the panic nights were a dead giveaway. Ser Jorah turned over to Rakharo as he babbled.

“Rakharo goes to the Khal and Khaleesi quickly, and there are intruders in the camp.” Ser Jorah did not even wait.

He yelled over his shoulder as he rushed out the tent. The bright blue sky seemed darkening, the warm rays of the sun seemed cooler. The shadows seemed to grow darker as she crushed his sword in hand, the smooth leather grip perfect in his grasp as he looked over to the sound where the horses were coming from. Furious snaps could be challenging as the strong black teeth, and sharp snapping jaws filled the air.

Ser Jorah was rushing across the smooth grass field to the entrance of the camp where 12 hours rested, shocked and panic screams were filling the air. Sir Arthur was running across the center, the smooth blade resting in his hand as murderous violet eyes were locked on the entrance the same as Ser Jorah.

All the while, Ser Oswell was screaming at the top of his lungs, “Who goes there!!” She roared with renewed fury.

He was not the only one that was running; Rhaegar was running with Lyanna at his side, his sword hefted in his hand, and her bow taunts as she held tightly to an arrow in her grip. There was darkness flattering across all their faces. Ser Jorah knew what they were thinking that Robert had found him, and now he was here to kill them.

Ser Jorah's heart was pounding in his chest, his mind was rushing one minute and blank the next he did not know what to do. His fingers were sweaty when he first found the Targaryen; he saw them to an end.

A way to get home, and then when he saw Daenerys, he felt pity for her and wanted to help her, but he wanted to go home more. Now he knew that they were the salvation of all the kingdoms and that they needed him.

He would no longer allow the stag king and his pet wolves to ruin his life; his legs were tensing as all the power rushed through his legs launching him forward. His shoulders were tense, and it felt like there was a chord pulling tight in the small of his back as he lurched forward, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

He was excited to see men dressed in golden cloaks ready to attack them the first chance they got but instead, when he got to the entrance, he noticed not a bunch of southern perfume lords and their knights, but two women and ten hardened warriors. He knew the youngest girl, and he knew the women well.

Her thick pin-straight black hair and her gentle dark gray eyes were locked on them, winding with doubt of a dragon with crimson scales and dangerous red eyes locked directly on her. His forked tongue racked against his bottom lips as he roared with fury, his slit eyes panicked as he thought about his rider and his wife that Jorah thought were endangered, but this was what they had been waiting so long for.

The Northern messenger they were finally here.

Dacey sat atop a pale white mare, her eyes locked on the dragon first, as a thick black dragon slammed into the ground, his smoldering red eyes looked like the most bottomless pits of seven hells. His black teeth had a wicked gleam as his tail swishing back and forward as blood bubbled against his lips. Black and red fire danced along his lips as a smooth, husky voice spoke the common tongue.

“Move and you die,” Enyo spoke in a threatening tone.

Before anyone knew it, her knife was pointed at the young girl's thigh; she had an ethereal beauty to her, with smoke gray eyes and the long face of the starks. She had a mace on her hip and a bag on her back, but she had no chance of moving. Enyo’s snow white and silver curls were pulled up to a ponytail so you could genuinely see the fury that was hidden in her eyes.

Toxicana descended from the sky, her claw ripping in the tender flesh of one of the men's horses, their fierce blank eyes locked on them. Dacey could not believe what she was seeing. Ser Jorah knew that it must have been a shock to the system. Something was startling about seeing something that was thought to be dead long ago.

The moment that Ser Jorah saw his cousin, he knew that he had to speak up before they were all dead; the girl by her age had to be Lyra, his great cousin that he had not seen in a long while.

“My king, princess, this is Dacey Stark, Benjen Stark’s wife and their first-born daughter Lyra stark.” Ser Jorah spoke in a rushed and booming voice.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing, he knew that they would send a message, but he did not think it would be his cousin. The whole cleaning came to a stop; he looked around the clearing.

Lyanna had wide doubtful eyes only for a moment, then she smiled weakly as her eyes scanned every inch do Dacey and then Lyra face; it was hard to see any stark or Mormont in her but when you did you couldn't ignore it.

Rhaegar looked over Dacey and Lyra; he would not look at her as if he knew them; he had never been in the North, but he knew that Lyanna recognized something in their faces. Enyo, on the other hand, was not so bold; her blade was still resting on the young girl's thigh as her vision narrowed and the doubt-filled her stare. She was not quick to trust them, and that was for sure.

Dacey, at that moment, realized what she was here for, and her eyes shifted to Lyanna.

“It truly is you when we got your letter. I was not as sold as Benjen was; he is sure that we had to come to see for ourselves. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, so here we are. My god dragons,” Dacey was scatterbrain struggling to make up her mind.

She did not know if she should look at Lyanna as if she was seeing a ghost or looking at the dragon with a mystified expression on his face. Lyra was looking down at the young girl who had a blade to her thigh. Enyo was a year younger, but she had more of a womanly form; she even had her moon's blood not too long ago. Soon she would be married to her brother the same way that her aunt was.

Her gray eyes were the color of a raging storm as she spoke in a cold voice, “How do we know that they aren't working for that stag scum. We have been tricked and lied to before. Illyrio rang any bells?” 

The moment that she said it was an unsteady tension race across all of them; they knew that Enyo was right, Illyrio played a large role in their first betrayal, and they didn't want to risk a second one.

They were all standing in silence as the Dothraki were milling around the pale face of foreigners. Their arkah was pulled out their glimmering steel, their eyes harsh and murderous ready to slash and hack with ease.

“Enough all of you!” Aegon roared in Dothraki.

When he spoke, they all listened, and the head snapped up to the echoing sound, a warm breeze rippling through the camp as if Nature herself was responding to the rage of the young dragon prince.

When Ser Jorah turned to look at the young prince, Rakharo, Aggo, Jhogo were flanking the pregnant Khaleesi. They had a fury in their eyes, whip, bow, and arkah glimmering in the light as a lethal force rippled over the camp.

Ares snapped his redhead back, looking intently at his rider as he looked at the blood riders, a sense of relief rushing over the young dragon-like he knew that his rider was safe. Daenerys looked a little pale, but other than that, she seemed fine, and now that Ser Jorah knew that she was pregnant, he could see the telltale signs of beginning with a child. A sneer pulled at his lips as he rages began to fade away as he looked over to see Meleys. She was gliding effortlessly over the grass with Viserys at her side. They would have been a handsome couple if not for Viserys's cruelty.

“I'm sorry about all of this and whatever trouble you might have gotten into because of the death of the cheesemonger. He was after all, trying to sell us out to the spider in the west. I understand that you didn't expect to see dragons let alone six of them, but we must keep this secret for as long as possible.” Aegon spoke in a diplomatic voice.

His bright dazzling white smile was locked on the young girls; there was a warmth to his eyes as confused flooded Lyra’s face. Her brows began to knit together as deep frown lines started to form on her face.

“Six?” Confusion flooded Lyra’s voice.

The moment she said that, Aegon simply pointed a finger up at the sky, forcing 12 northern heads to snap up as he looked to the sky. Eragon, Arrax, and Silverwing were circling the small group, their silt eyes smoldering with bloodlust. They, much like the three dragons on the ground, were worried that something might have to the Targaryens.

As if it were even possible, their eyes widened more as Daenerys spoke in a quaint voice, “We should talk in a less hostile environment, and we should babble. We have slowed our progress long enough. We must get moving and soon. The khalasar will be at Vaes Dothrak soon, and we need to be there soon.”

They knew that there was something that they were missing, but Lyra looked over to her mother. Both were unsure as they spoke in a smooth voice.

“We have something that we need to talk to you about as well,” Dacey spoke in a quicken voice.

* * *

They were standing in the command tent, none of them saying a word as Aegon and Daenerys explained their plan to take each one of the hordes one at a time in the hopes of taking them. They spoke warmly about the North for a few moments, but then the tension in the air returned, and Dacey looked over to her good sister speaking in a warm and weak voice.

“We must talk about the west, Benjen has your back, and he is already speaking with the Glovers and the Karstarks in the hopes of getting their loyalty, but Ned believes you're dead and he won't change his mind not unless you tell him yourself…” Dacey spoke only to be cut off by Aegon.

“Through Ser Barristan in a black cell, he knows that Benjen sided with us, and he is sending a letter to the north. He is hoping to speak to him before telling Robert that the evil Targaryens twisted him to their side. There is a child in each, one in the North, and three in the capital; we are aware of our extended families exploits. We are also blamed for Jon Arryn’s death, all lies. I have my own furry information.” Aegon spoke in a sage-like voice.

As if he saw all and knew all and there was a part of him that did, he already warged into the mind of hounds, horses, and of course, wolves and dragons. Aegon thought that he could speak with reason to his uncle. But after seeing him throwing Ser Barristan into a cell when he had been nothing but loyal to their family. It drove him into a fit of madness.

Any mercy for him is gone. The same could be said for Catelyn but the children he would let live, but he would not let them rule the North, not after what they have done, choosing Robert's side and try coming after them time and time again.

He would not allow his son to be in pain, not the way that he was his uncle would not torment the next generation of Targaryens like he did Aegon. He loved his family, but he did not know them, and he was not going to risk his own son's life for them.

Ser Jorah could not help but pity him; he had to choose between the family he knows and the family he never got the chance to learn. Dacey was shocked into silence, her eyes clouded over with doubt and awe, almost as if she were trying to figure out how he knew that.

Lyra, on the other hand, did not care how he knew it; her eyes were locked on the dragon that was resting on the back of his chair. Smooth red eyes were closed on the shocked eyes of the Northern.

His long coiling neck was lower so that his smooth blocky head was nuzzling Aegon’s face, forcing the prince to smile gently as he ran his fingers tenderly along the sizzling skin of the hatchling. However, Ser Jorah was always amazed at how the heat of the dragon never bothered him or any of the Targaryens.

Though only three of them were immune to the flames, and those were the very Targaryens that walked out the fire with six dragons. Viserys nearly lost a hand when he tried, Viserys, who was now sizing up the pretty young lady from the North, his eyes locked on every inch of her form before finding something knew to look at.

There was an unsteady silence that passed over them as Dacey and Lyra both had a spark in their eyes like they had finally remembered why they were here. With quick and trembling fingers, Lyra’s excitement began to burn bright in her eyes as she spoke in a quicken voice.

“While you might have known about the happening in the west, I bet you didn’t know about these. A red priestess gave them to us and told me to hand them only to the prince that was promised. At first, we thought that it was foolish, but now it makes sense these stones can be brought back to life.” Lyra spoke in an excited voice that gave away her trembling excitement.

Her hands were running through the very sack that she didn’t dare let go of; Ser Jorah knew the moment that he heard the words stolen and brought back to life, what was really in that bag, and he was not the only one.

Aegon leaned over in his chair as Enyo stood a little bit straighter, no longer draping herself around her brother's throne. Instead, interested in seeing what was in the bag of the very girl that she almost killed, not even a few hours ago.

Each of them watched as three stones that Ser Jorah knew to be eggs came clattering out of the bag, “We can only assume that she got them from the land beyond the asshai.” Dacey spoke as she watched the soft deep blue dragon egg resting in the center.

While the half icy blue half red rested on the left and the soft emerald green egg with golden flecks rested to the right. Daenerys' eyes flashed over the eggs the moment that she saw them. One hand went to her stomach, the other to the eggs. A spark of recognition fell over her face as her hands went to the soft cerulean egg. Her fingers were dainty, but they danced along with the egg as her callous palms ached for warmth and power.

Ser Jorah knew that the prince and the princess did not have time to tell the other about the babe. Only a few Dothraki knew, and Ser Jorah knew that it would be crucial when they mentioned the babe because he knew the moment that they did, tension would begin to rise. Aegon was to wed and bed Enyo before they made it to Vaes Dothrak, and by then, at some point, he would have to tell them all that his heir would be his child with Daenerys, not his child with Enyo. He could only imagine how that would end.

“I have seen in a few dreams that dragons were waking in the east, resting in the lands of the Asshai. I did not believe it, not until this moment. Even though she had only given you three eggs, that does not mean that there are only three eggs in the lands. For now, we must gain power in men, not magic, but we will be taking a trip to the lands of the Asshai. We leave full speed ahead for Vaes Dothrak in the morning. We have waited for her long enough. We will take the hordes then move further east to gather the unsullied.” Aegon's voice was firm and final.

Daenerys eyes were locked on the eggs, not paying any of the men attention; the same could be said for the Meleys and Enyo. They were meant to bring life into this world so could bringing the experiences of Dragons be their same purpose? They were all worried that the dragon would die before they could further their line. But here another three dragons rested.

“We need fire and blood to hatch them; we will find plenty in Vaes Dothrak,” Daenerys spoke in a cold voice

Flames fanning in her eyes. The dragon queen was ready to hatch these eggs, but it would be dangerous to do so, at least for the time they begin. But there would be time later Ser Jorah was sure of that.

* * *

Lyanna Ⅳ

His eyes were scanning her, every little move that she made, every flicker of her eyes, and every sharp whack that slapped against her arms. His indigo eyes were darkening with worry as he watched the way that Ser Jorah carefully dance around the poised form of Daenerys. There was a darkness to the older man's start as his sword moved a bit closer than usual as if he had felt the pressure that Aegon's giving off.

Lyanna had noticed the change in her son ever since they saw Dacey and Lyra come into the camp a few days past. Tonight, he would wed and bed Enyo who, much like himself, had begun to show signs of warging.

She had dreams that she was a lioness on the prowl with her cub and mate. Even now, she was getting ready for her ceremony, in direct contrast to Meleys who was currently working hard with her father to figure out how they could move more quickly once the horde grew. The fast way to move through the city would be to move by boat, but the Dothraki had never ridden the ships before.

Lyanna let out a heavy breath as she looked over to Daenerys, who was purple and blue but smiling warmly as her skin was now a deep golden color. She looked to be filling out a large breast and more of a womanly figure. Her eyes were alive as she was moved quickly, able to take one of the weaker and younger Dothraki down. But hardened warriors were still way above her paid to grade.

Though she looked alive, she got along well with Lyra, but her brisk and standoffish northern nature clashed with Daenery's warm personality. Lyra could always be found riding like a banshee with Enyo.

While Meleys and Daenerys spent most of their time talking and braiding each other's hair, Meleys helped to teach Daenerys Dothraki. Aegon had been busy hunting and mastering his warging abilities.

But he was in bed with Daenerys every night, making sure that she was always asking for back rubs and foot rubs, and he always gave in without even putting up a fight. Lyanna knew that something was going on even if her son would not tell her. Lyanna moved over to her son, a warm smile on her face as she bumped her shoulder, playfully against her son.

“What are you staring at?” Lyanna spoke in a warm and kidding voice.

Aegon simply grunted as his sharp pinpoint eyes were locked on Daenerys; Lyanna knew that something was going on with her son. Usually, he would always have one guard on his uncle, making sure that Rakharo or Jhogo was watching him while Ago stayed with Daenerys. But now all three blood riders were standing off to the side, speaking about their Khaleesi progress in learning to wield weapons.

Aegon acted as if he didn’t hear her simply began to walk off, forcing Lyanna to trail after him, his arms were folded over his chest, and he looked deep in thought as his mind began to fill with cluttered thoughts. His brows furrowed as he was staring at the ground, a slight frown on his face as he looked up to the sky as if he were looking at something.

His eyes turned a milky white as he looked at the eyes of a lone bird that flew through the camp and had the unfounded pleasure of meeting Aegon. Now it was like they were never separated; there was a small smile on her face; she was proud that her son had mastered so many creatures by now.

“Is there something that you are not telling me? Something to do with Daenerys?” Lyanna hinted as she spoke to her son.

She knew that there was something wrong, but she hoped that her son would come clean about all of it. She knew that he could hear her even if he didn’t let it show; there was nothing but silence that rushed to the of them as Aegon let out a final heavy breath as his eyes turned back to indigo.

“Nothing is wrong; there is a beast known as the cannibal, a white lion that is roaming around the lands of Vaes Dothrak. We will be there in less than a half a day out of the city, and that beast will be there soon. I am sure that we will see the beast. I want to make sure that she is safe. That they are all safe.” Aegon rambled, but his heart and mind were somewhere else.

Lyanna was no fool; she knew that Aegon could have easily slipped into the beast's mind and been done with it, but that did not mean that his lies would fool her. She looped her left arm with her son dragging him out of the camp with a warm smile on her face as she spoke in a sweet yet patient voice.

“Right, so it has nothing to do with the fact that Daenerys is pregnant?” Lyanna questioned coyly.

Her smoke-gray eyes were filled with love as a storm of doubt and confusion filled the chest of Aegon, his eyes scanning his mother. They had been close, but he did not think that she would have read him so easily.

The moment he looked at her, her right brow raised as skepticism and doubt fluttered across her face resting there as it belonged there. He knew that if they were in his tent, her hip would be popped out, and her hand would be resting on her hip.

Aegon let out a heavy breath letting his chest deflate as he felt a sense of defeat filling him; he knew that there was no point in lying any longer. He wanted to wait until after the marriage to her younger sister, but that did not seem likely to happen, if his mother found out. Soon his father would know then the rest of the camp would know. Some of the Dothraki knew, but they knew better than to tell the silver hair king unless their Khal commanded them to.

“The day that Aunt Dacey came, we found out that she was pregnant. Ever since then, there has been no good time, and we want to wait until we get to Vaes Dothrak. I was not sure how Enyo would take it. I knew that she would be upset that father made her wait to marry me, which put her a year behind Dany. It is not some competition, and I know that they will not be at each other's thoughts. But sooner or later, the game of thrones will start in earnest, and people are going to try and put them against each other. I need all of our positions solidified before the truth comes out.” Aegon spoke in a stage voice.

But all Lyanna heard was that she had a grandchild on the way; excitement flooded her chest as an excited squeal left her lips. She could barely think straight as she jumped happily. Slapping her son's arm, who could not help but let out bellowing laughter. A warm smile pulled at his lips as he could not support the giddy session. It had been killing him not to tell his mother, and finally, he was able to.

“She thinks that I am a boy. I hope that it is a boy. A son, a future dragon rider and warg, I want him to be born into a proud family, not one that has to run and hide; I want him to know that the Targaryens are not lambs to the slaughter that we will not have to fear anyone. I want him to rule over it all.” Aegon spoke blatantly.

His eyes were scanning the excellent grass sea. The further that they got from the camp, the higher that the grass got, the ground started to shift in specific going from sturdy base to smooth ever-shifting sands.

They were getting closer to the method of mountains, and they were getting closer to the lion pride. The grass stood a little bit taller; the wind ruffled just a little bit more, the soft crunch of grass beneath feet filled Lyanna’s ear.

Though there was this melancholy air that hung around them, something that she was not used to when it came to talking to her son. Their chats were severe at times but never dark, not like this; she knew that her son hated pretending and began something that he is not. Hoping that he would one day be able to come out of hiding and knew that she did not want that for him, let alone her grandson.

Pain etched its way into her heart, a part of her regret it wished that she would have gone about this a different way. If she had come to her father and told him the truth, if she had gone to the mad king and forced him in some way to take a succession of offspring if they didn’t let it get that far, then her son would have never lived this life that he was forced to. But then again, if that happened, would there have been dragons.

“If we take over the west, the east will always be a threat if we take over the east, then the west will always be a threat. One will lust for our dragons and stop at nothing to take them. So how do we solve that problem? It is simple, we build up so much power that none can stand in our way. I haven’t told my father yet, and I know that it is unfair of me to ask this, but would you not tell him about the baby not yet.” Aegon's voice was stoic.

His eyes were racing; he was planning a thousand moves before his mind could even focus on the next steps. Lyanna patted his arms, gently ripping him from his scattered thoughts as a warm smile pulled at her lips. A tendril of warmth started at her heart and bloomed through the rest of her body.

“One thing at a time first we gather the hordes then the ships then the Unsullied then we make the west pay….” The rustling of grass cut off Lyanna’s voice.

Any other time it would have been fine after all the wind would force grass to move, but they were far from the camp, further than either one of them realized, and there was no wind; something else was driving the grass. Lyanna’s first thought was another horde, but they would have heard the pounding of hooves. The shrill, high-pitched cries of the Dothraki screamers.

She knew that there was something wrong even if she did not see it, not just yet; her heart began to hammer in her chest as she scolded herself for not remembering to bring her bow and arrow. At first, she thought that at the very least, Aegon would have Blackfyre, but Aegon was so used to having his blood riders and dragons around that he walked about the camp with no blade on his back this was one of those times. Both were forced to watch as the grass began to part. Slow at first, as if something were stalking toward them, this deep rumbling sound began to build. The silence was defending as terror flooded Lyanna’s mind; she could not keep her heart steady.

Aegon was peering through the grass he could see better than his mother; she didn’t know if that had something to do with adapting the excellent vision for the young dragon or even the wolf he was bonded with. But he could see the beast.

“Hrakkar….” Aegon's voice drew on.

There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he watched the beast stalking through the tall reeds of the grass, scary dark brown eyes locked on Aegon. A thick fat tongue ran across his lips as Lyanna stared at the beast as a lioness walked out next to the male lion; among them was a cub that could not have been more than a few weeks old.

It made Lyanna think about the young cub growing in the stomach of Daenerys, who was only a few months old, which made her wonder if the child could warg would have more than one animal companion like his father.

Lyanna knew that the Hrakkar was a breed of white lion native to the Dothraki sea; their smooth white fur was glittering in the light as their deep brown eyes were filling with hatred as if they were ready to attack them at a moment's notice.

Aegon dropped down to one knee. He held a handout and bowed before the lion, his eyes turning a foggy white the moment that their eyes locked; Lyanna watched as the lion's eyes turned white as well. It had only been a few minutes, but Lyanna knew that to her son, it was much longer than that. She was told about the mental landscape that these creatures create for themselves and that they knew when he entered the minds of the animals.

But Lyanna did not have time for him to work it out; the lioness was stalking over her lips and her teeth as a furious roar filled the air. Her white whiskers were flaring as she snarled a thick husky cry leaving her lips as razor-sharp canines were glimmering in the morning. Buckets of sweat dripped down her back as her palm was sweaty and slick with pain as she started to back away. Slow at first as she did her best to keep calm, knew that if she showed even the slightest bit of fear, the beat would kill her.

“Hurry Aegon,” Lyanna panicked thoughts replayed in her mind.

She knew that soon she would die, and Aegon would be filled with grief, but she knew that he could not rush or else he would be the one that was dead along with her. The lioness's shoulders were tense as she stalked just a little bit closer; there was a pressure that the east exerted as she was closing the distance. She was sure that she was going to die when the pounding of hooves started to grow louder.

The shadows behind her face as a purple dragon with bright green eyes were locked on the lioness as she screeched with fury. Her long cooling neck darted out through the grass, forcing the Lioness to recoil in a panic.

Her eyes were filled with apprehension, but she was not going to stop, not with her mewling kitten resting behind his mother's leg, his little white fur as tufts of hair rippled across his small little head. His wide brown eyes were locked on the dragon letting out an excited screech like he wanted to play with the dangerous and enraged dragon hatching.

“Mother?!! Aegon you idiot, what are you doing!!” Enyo screeched.

Lyanna turned back to look to see her daughter fury filling her eyes as she wore smooth red silks with black diamonds running along the plunged neckline. Strapped to her hip was a dagger as she leered at the lioness' firm and determined look forming on her face as her eyes grew that same smoky white color.

She dipped into the young lioness mind, and while Lyanna knew that it would take long but at least this way, she was not going to get ripped apart. She sat there who even knows how long when finally, both her children returned to their senses. The massive white mansion of the line was brushing gently against the fingertips of his Aegon. A warm smile pulled at his face as he seemed just a bit more at ease.

Enyo launched herself from horseback with a warm smile on her face as she ran her fingers along with the smooth white fur of the young lioness; there was a warmth to her eyes as the young cub nipped at the toes of Toxicana. The moment that the cub bit at the toes of the young hatchling, she let out an outraged screech but made no move to bite at the cub. The cub cocked her head to the side, looking up at the dragon-like he could not understand why she was angry with the cub.

Lyanna could only chuckle as she watched her children interact with the lions, and it made her smile. The Lannister once upon a time had lions on their own, but now her children had lions and dragons and soon they would have dire wolves. There is a whole northern kingdom; if they could find six wolves domesticated, then they could find some wild ones for her daughters.

But Vaes Dothrak was only a half a day away, and as the sun began to rise over the horizon, he knew that they would be setting out in a few minutes, maybe even an hour. They would be upon Vaes Dothrak in a matter of hours, and their plan would begin in earnest.

* * *

Daenerys Ⅶ

There was only an hour out of Vaes Dothrak, and Daenerys stared out into the vast Horde with wonder in his eyes, she hadn’t seen so many people, and while they freed the slaves, the other Dothraki knew what they were even if they no longer wore collars. It made her wonder, though, Aegon often told her that the Dothraki did not use money. But if they did not have gold or silver that they use, then how could they possibly afford all these slaves.

She shifted her stare to the head of the pack, every five minute, she would see Aegon snap his head back to see his bright indigo eyes scanning her swelling stomach. It got to the point that she asked Mel to go ahead and get her lovely brother to stop because the others would notice. Now she was riding with Ser Jorah at her side.

“What are you going to name him?” Lyanna questioned.

Melting from the rest of the horde with a lion at her side and a cub in her lap, she was smitten with the soft white cub, and she was not the only one. The cub often laid in the bed with the young princess and her husband and her sister's wife. A warm smile pulled at her face as she thought about the sweet cub waking her up every morning with a soft mewling screech.

There were more beasts in their bed than men, Balerion, Ares, and Toxicana were snuggled next to their riders with the young cub in the middle and the two full-grown lions resting at the foot of their fur laden bed.

Daenerys snapped her head up, looking at Lyanna as she smiled weakly both the lion stalked around the horse; it did not matter where their wargs were. They would not leave the side of their cub, and Aegon and Enyo never forced the lions to come to their side.

On the day of the wedding, Daenerys thought that things would be tense but instead, things were a lot more relaxed. After the wedding, Aegon bedded Enyo, and then he bedded them both at the same time. Thinking about it was forcing her face to burn white hot as she shifted her stare in the distance.

“How did you know?” Dany’s words oozed with confusion.

Aegon was the one that said that he did not want to talk to the other about their son until after the wedding until after they got to Vaes Dothrak. But Lyanna let out sing-song laughter as she was bubbling with excitement and joy. Her eyes were sparkling with love and excitement.

“He is my son. We talk about everything, and you have never answered the question. What are you going to name him?” Lyanna questioned sharply, not letting Dany think about the question.

Though she could sense the joy in her good mother's words as warm and filled with love, both looked over to the head of the pack where Dacey was sitting with Rhaegar. Both were talking, their head bent, and their lips tight as they spoke low, hoping the neighs of the horses filled the air. They knew that they were talking about the West's affairs and what their next plan would be.

They all knew that Benjen was moving to get the help of two of the great houses of the North, but what they didn’t know was what they were going to do if they didn’t believe it for themselves. But now they were going to Vaes Dothrak.

“Rhaego, we wanted something original but still have a Valyrian sounding name to it, and if it is a girl, we want to name her after my mother, Rhaella,” Dany spoke in a warm voice.

When she spoke, she could see the way that Lyanna’s eyes lit up with joy as she all but let her face split into a mad grin. Warmth flooded her whole body as she thought about the life that was budding in her stomach. She knew that in a few moons, she would be giving birth to a new rendition of dragon lords. She was excited and could not wait to hatch the same egg that she knew was meant for her child.

“It’s a good strong name, I will give you some time to ponder your thoughts, but you should think about telling your brother he would be happy for you. Well, at least one of them would be.” Lyanna spoke sweetly before marching off.

Ser Jorah was silent the whole time, not saying a word, simply riding at Daenerys' side; with the absence of Lyanna, Dany was left to ponder her earlier thoughts about the slaves. A child-like intrigue and wonder-filled her, but also this deep-seeded disgust filled her chest, forcing her heart to sink and her stomach to lurch.

“Do the Dothraki buy their slaves?” Dany questioned. Thinking that maybe just maybe Aegon was wrong, after all, he was not the Dothraki whisper.

‘The Dothraki don’t believe in money. Most of their slaves were given to them as gifts.” Ser Jorah spoke warmly as her eyes shifted around the column, looking at the oppressed and exhausted face of many women and children that could not ride or did not learn how to ride. Many were resting in a cart at the back of the column as the sun beat against their mocha skin

Many of the Dothraki didn’t seem to be brothers by the sun; Doreah and the handmaidens were riding behind her back, Ready to fret over her the moment that she got hurt or needed even the slightest bit of water. She knew that when that happened then, Aegon would start to worry all over again.

“From whom?” Daenerys shook her head, forcing her cluttered thoughts to leave her mind.

“If you rule a city and you see the horde approaching, you have two choices: pay tribute or fight—an easy choice for most. Of course, sometimes it is not enough. Sometimes a khal feels insulted by the number of slaves he is given. He might think the men too weak or the women too ugly. Sometimes a khal decides his riders haven’t had a good fight in months and need the practice.” Ser Jorah spoke in a monotone voice.

But she was disgusted with his word. How could the men even think that this was okay and horrified her more than anything else? After all, men were men, not beasts, they should know better than to treat people like they were currency. Dany watched as one of the Dothraki men cracked his whipped, forgetting that they were not his slaves to order any longer. Dany flinched away in disgust and pain, knowing that it would take more than the pinning state of their Khal to keep them at bay.

She was not going to allow this; she was not going to witness it, “Tell them all to stop. You want the entire horde to stop? For how long?” Ser Jorah questioned.

“Until I command them otherwise.” Daenerys carefully got down the horse.

Her boots are sticking in the rights of the saddle as Ser Jorah gave his young Khaleesi a warm smile.

“You’re learning to talk like a queen.” Ser Jorah spoke impressively.

Looking at the blade that rested on her hip, a glimmering steel blade hidden in a leather sheath, he knew that she would be protected if it was from a low level and knew the Dothraki rider. Though even then, she had Balerion to protect her. The black dragon flew just about the young woman as Ser Jorah noticed a fire in her eyes. 

“Not a queen. A Khalessi.” She spoke in a roulette voice.

She walked through the grass, taking off her shoes, letting the dirt smooth between her toes; her hands ran along the smooth golden and emerald green reeds that were gentle to the touch. The moist blades were heaven against her burning fingertips. The warm, gentle breeze was caressing her skin as she looked up at the sky.

The thick fluffy white clouds were moving against the sky in a slow crawl; the bright golden light of the sun peppered her skin as warmth flooded her body. She felt at ease. The soft screeches of Balerion filled her ears, smoldering red eyes were calm and at ease. A sensation of love filling the young dragon's eyes as he looked down at his rider. The soft rippling of the wind through the reeds, the smooth, earthy tones of the soil as it back in the early morning heat.

Daenerys had never felt more at ease. There was a beauty to the wild and harsh nature of the great grass sea, she smiled sweetly, watching as Balerion began to circle, but his bright red eyes were locked not on his rider but something off in the distance. Was watching the way that something was approaching them. Daenerys turned sharply on her heels, watching as the golden and the green blurred together. A awe-inspired smile on her face knowing that her son would be born into a beautiful and wild world.

“You dare! Do you give commands to me? To me? You do not command the dragon. I am Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I do not take orders from savages or their sluts. Do you hear me?” A shrill voice of Viserys filled the air.

His eyes were crazed with manic energy, and getting an order from Daenerys finally made him snap. He could not abide by them any longer, and he could not pretend to care for them. A sneer pulled at his lips, curling over his gleaming white teeth. His silver hair glimmering in the light as his eyes were crazed, and his brows were furrowed deep frown lines formed on his forces his nose scrunched up.

He jumped from his horse, hefting his sword. The glimmering steel was filled with mad rage; he gripped tightly to Dany’s hair ripping back until her root’s hair and white-hot pain flooded her hair. She let out a panic screech of pain, her eyes locked on the sky, hoping to see Balerion, the black dragon diving through the sky, hoping to get to his rider in time.

His eyes were manically filled with fury, and he was not the only dragon Ares was watching; his eyes were locked on Viserys, a venomous anger filling his eyes as his tongue cracked against his crimson scales. Dany’s heart pumped faster in her chest. She could not think straight. She knew that she had a dagger on her hip, and she could have used it.

But she didn’t have a chance her throat clamped up as her fingers were moving to the blade hilt ready to the sharp crack of the whip curling around the slit throat of Viserys forcing him to fling back as the grass began to part and furious neighs were filling the air as a group of horse busted through the grass. Angry roars of lions filled the air as Dany looked to see the group that was before her.

Irri and Rakharo were among them, Rakharo’s whip curling around her brother's throat, a sneer pulling at his lips as his obsidian eyes darkened with fury to the point that they were almost black.

White lions descended into the valley swirling around Viserys hate-filled brown eyes were locked on Viserys snarling, waiting for the orders from Enyo and Aegon. Dany looked down at her brother as the rest of the horse burst through the grass.

Rakharo spoke in Dothraki, and while her language skills were coming along, that did not mean that she could tell it fluently.

“Rakharo asks if you want him dead, Khaleesi,” Irri spoke in the common tongue

Daenerys felt an urge of desperation; he was trash, but he was her brother, and he was not in his right mind about now.

“No.” Dany screeched in desperation.

“Rakharo says you should take ear, to teach respect,” Irri spoke as Rakharo’s lip flared over his teeth.

“We will be taking more than just his ear,” Aegon spoke first in the common tongue then in Dothraki.

Indigo's eyes were black as the night as he jumped down from the red stallion that he had stolen from Drogo. The pulsing ruby of Blackfyre shook, his lion that he named Helios for his gilded white fur let out a furious snarl, his thick razor-sharp claws ripping through the air threatening to slash at the leg of Viserys, who just barely danced out the way.

When he saw Aegon, all the fury that filled him the manic and crazed energy, the need for vengeance against his sister melted away into sheer terror. Viserys knew that he had fucked up, but his crazed ego kept him from thinking straight instead, he went off halfcocked, and now he was going to pay the price.

“Aegon, he is family,” Rhaegar roared behind Aegon’s back.

Dany snapped up to see her brother's indigo eyes filling with pity as he looked down at Dany. The pain in his eyes told her that he was sorry for all that Viserys did, but they could not only kill him. She knew that no one was more cursed than a kingslayer. But the Targaryens were no ordinary people; they were gods among men.

Aegon let out a furious snarl as Ares slammed against the ground, his wings holding him out as bright crimson red flames flashed against the sky the scent of sulfur fluttered over the small group Daenerys turned to look at Lyanna.

Her smoke-gray eyes were dark, and she did not look the least bit shocked about what was going on. She must have seen Viserys coming in after her; her lips were pulled into a frown. Her eyes were scanning Aegon as his knuckles turned stark white as his shoulders stiffened.

He had a calm mask on his face, but occasionally, she would see the fury that would bubble in his stare as he sneered at the very sight of Viserys. He threw his legs over the saddle as he dropped to the ground with a graceful landing.

“I have been patient, I have accepted the fact that my father thinks that you can be saved but you can't, you think that because you were born with privilege, that you were born a prince that you are above the rest. Your hubris is stifling, and your cruelty is overwhelming; instead of loving and protecting your sister, you terrorized her. I should have killed you the day that I met you. Like a fool, I let others sway my hand. I will not let that happen again. Ser Jorah gets one of the old slave collars, and you will go ahead to Vaes Dothrak. Find the cruelest slave master that you can find.” Aegon spoke in a cold voice.

The moment that he said the words, Viserys eyes were widening with doubt as he tried to fight against the whip but Rakharo, Daenerys knew that Aegon hated slavery as much as her, so why would he do this.

“EGG….” Daenerys spoke, but his forceful stare told her that he would abide by this no longer.

He walked stifled over to Daenerys, fear filling his eyes as he ran a tender along her face, the hate-filled his stare when he looked at Viserys. A warmth bubbled in his hand as he had it pressed gently against his wife’s skin. Though a blood lust filled him, and no one was going to sway him. Enyo was sitting on her horse with a sneer on her face as she looked down at Viserys.

She always saw him as nothing more than trash even after being with them for 4 months; there was no way that she would see him as anything more than a weak will punk. Hatred flooded her straw the same way that Aegon did.

“Aegon he is a Targaryen if he gets sold into slavery, Robert will find him and kill him. You know better than else that we need to keep the bloodline as pure as possible.” Rhaegar tried to calm his son.

But Aegon would hear none of it, and if Rhaegar knew the truth, he would not be asking for mercy for his brother, but now he would learn the fact they all will. Aegon would make sure that if anyone placed a hand on his wife, his pregnant wife, he would kill them.

“It is because we are the blood that I'm letting him live out the rest of his pitiful existence as a slave, anyone that tries to attack my wife, and my child will die. If you were anyone else, I would have cut you into little pieces and let the lions and dragons feast on your flesh. You think that you are better than us and that you are entitled to everything. I will show you how wrong you are. Ser Jorah takes him in chains, and the moment that we get into the city, sell him and uses the gold to buy supplies for the Journey though I am sure that you will not get much. You will set out now; we are heading just a little bit south of Vaes Dothrak. There is a horde out there we will take before going into the city. We will make a statement to the rest of Vaes Dothrak. Bend the knee or die.” Aegon spoke, and all of them listened.

But they were all shocked into silence. They did not know about the prince growing in her stomach, but they did now. Daenerys was shocked at first, but relieved slavery was better than death, and maybe he would finally learn his lesson. She looked down at her brother, pity filling her chest, but he was more than willing to kill her, which was the last straw for her. She would not die for him. Rhaegar stared at his brother than his son, not sure what to do. But the moment that he saw his wife faces, he knew that she knew this whole time.

The Dothraki went about their issues following their Khal’s orders, ready for battle. Rhaegar could not help but pity his brother, but if his grandchild’s life was in danger may be being sold in slavery would teach him a valuable lesson that he would never learn with them. The cruelty is not strength, it is only cruelty, and now he will know what it feels like to be treated as less than human.

* * *

Aegon V

The sound of cracking whips filled the air as Aegon loomed on a ride looking over the men, and women were filled with fear as threatening men with copper skin and horse leather clothes. Many of the slaves, the women at the very least, were forced to look up at the sky as they were being raped. Some cried out, and some were mute, but all of them had that same dead-eye look in their eyes like they were numb to it. 

The cries of babies and wailing women filled the ears of the Dothraki host hidden behind the ridge. They were ready to attack at a moment’s notice. The sharp crap of whipped lashing against the tender skin of women forced crying as they protected their babies from the lash.

Hate-filled their eyes as she looked scornfully at lash that greeted them, and Aegon pity them, but he knew that he was no better. He sold his uncle off to the slavers in Vaes Dothrak even now he knew that Ser Jorah was taken him into the city gates even as they stood here.

“Are you ready, Khal” Aggo spoke in Dothraki

Aggo was a seasoned warrior; he was with Khal Drogo since he was a boy, Aegon did not think that Aggo would ever side against his khal, but they valued power over all else. Aegon showed that strength when he took that Khal’s life.

Jhogo was sitting beside Daenerys with Rakharo both having their blades ready; Daenerys was rushing into battle even though Aegon did not want that. It did not matter what he wanted even though he was her husband and the father of their child, that did not mean that he could control her life or that he wanted to. He was not his grandfather; he was not his uncle.

But it worried him hence why there were two blood riders on her. Enyo was at the front of her pack with her bonded lion Nala. Her smooth white fur bristled as her shoulders were stiff, and a dangerous air whirled around her. Her bright brown eyes were filled with hatred. The Dothraki were hunting her pride for a while. Now there were only the three of them left.

Aegon took in a deep breath letting his chest expand as his mind cleared his eyes and was scanning the camp until he found the man that he knew to be the khal. A man with the longest braid and glimmering bells was nothing compared to Drogo’s braid, so he knew that he was not as skilled.

Aegon gave him a firm nod, and he looked back to see his father and his mother both had sturdy yet blank looks on their face as Dacey and her daughter Lyra stood at their side. Lyra’s bright gray eyes were locked on Aegon, a hunger filling in her eyes. She wanted a fight, and she wanted a dragon. At least that was Aegon’s thinking.

But who did not want a dragon, right?

A smug smile pulled at his lips as his eyes began to sparkle; he pulled his smooth, shimmering blade from its scabbard. The brilliant red aura was giving the edge a blood drunk feel. When he roared, he did so with purpose of filling his chest.

“Charge!!” Aegon roared.

Slamming his spurs into the side of his hose, the red stallion reared back as his hoover slammed into the ground, ripping the ground apart. The bright green grass was spilling through the air as the wind roared past Aegon's ears. The wind was brisk and whipping against his skin, but he never felt more alive as blood rushed in his ears.

Murderous screeches could be heard as six dragons only a few months old, but the power in their eyes as they dived through the air with Toxicana, Balerion, and Ares was leading the pack. Aegon was filled with fire, rushing through his veins as the other ran around him. The set of sulfur began to linger in the air as fire built in the back of the dragon’s throats.

The scent of cooked meat, death, and hay littered the air as the panicked neighing of horses began to fill the air as Helios prowled at Aegon's side. His wild mane was rippling through the air as six dragons began to bathe the ground in thready but powerful flames. Black, gold, red, purple, silver, and green flames slammed into the ground. They were whirling together in a rainbow inferno of flame.

Purpose and power emitted throughout Aegon’s entire body as he rushed straight for the Khal cutting through as many Dothraki as he needed to. He slashed and hacked; his muscles grew tight as he felt the power of his horse’s strength against my fingertips.

Aegon could hear the screams of his victims as their skin burst apart, and the sickening crunch of bones filled his ears. The taste of copper filled his mouth as their blood dripped down his lips. The once bright sky now blackened by the smoke stared back at me as the screams of dying men filled my ears like the sweetest melodies

Helios was rushing through the crowds, his claws ripping through the tender mocha flesh of anyone that stopped in his bonded partner's way. Brown eyes filled with fury as the cord between the two beasts and their warg grew taunt. In the heat of battle, Aegon was everywhere, flying over the battlefield burning and dodging arrows as sharp whizzes and pops filled the air.

Then he was on the ground, blood filling his mouth and flesh stuck in between his teeth as he ripped through men. Then he was a horse's hooves ripping through the ground as his muscle ached with power and purpose.

He could see all and be all; he never felt more alive than right now; there was a mad grin on his face as he smiled at the men that he was slaughtering. He was active in battle, more alive than he had been in a long time.

He rushed through the camp. He could see men running through the black smoke, but they were cut down by the ebony hooves of the horse that stomped around them. They struggled to get their horses under control, panic burning in their eyes as their arkah gleamed in hopes of being drenched in blood. But instead, they were the ones being cut down.

A hunger flooded Aegon as he felt the power of his horse’s hooves slamming against the ground. The sickening crunch of bone filled his ears as his hooves hit into the skulls of men; Helios danced out the way of the claws barreling into the horde as if they were nothing more than suits of meat in his way. Aegon was right behind him, cutting down the weak masses as he watched the men that had been chasing once proud warriors of the great grass sea collapse beneath the might of a 14-year-old.

Aegon’s shoulder shook with rage, my copper skin soaked with blood as he looked over to his sister; Enyo’s silver and white hair were braided, hair wiped down her right shoulder. Her eyes were wild with joy as she rushed across the battlefield, a hunger filling her stare as she gripped tightly to Darksister. The black glowing aura greeted Aegon.

Nala was at her side a murderous motherly frenzy. She lost a lot of her cubs to the hunts, and now she was getting payback. Her roar was husky and built in the back of her throat. Her lips curled over her razor-sharp incisors. Brown eyes were filled with fury as her claws were hacking and silver ripping the heads off any man that got in her way.

She was not the only one Toxicana was flying over the head of the lion, bright purple flames burning the tender flesh of the men until their skin exploded from puss boils, and their skin blackened to the point that their skin was going to fade away to ash. Enyo was alive with power as she rushed through the flame, no fear as she slashed and hacked. Her sword pierced through the heart of men, her eyes alive with energy and fury.

The whole battlefield was alive with movement; at the most eastern part of the battlefield, Arthur, Rhaegar, and Lyanna cut through the masses. In contrast, Eragon cut through their tender flesh, letting his flames bathe the racing steel arrows as the sharp pops filled the ears of all around. Meleys was sitting in the camp protected by a few 100 Dothraki men

Lyra and Dacey had this murderous prowess as they slammed their maces down on top of their heads, watching them explode like balloons. Their front heads are carved in as their eyes balls explode with a wet pop from the force, and dangerous aura swirled around the two women as their eyes were hard and filled with power, they would not fear anyone or anything.

Aegon watched the battlefield for a few moments before he gripped tighter around the smooth leather hilt of his father's once-great blade. A murderous smile pulled at his lips as he pushed me forward as hate and excitement burned in my chest. The soft ringing of bells was all that he needed to make himself further.

The Khal was inches from his face, and he wanted nothing more than to put him down and take what was his. Aegon moved through the black smoke with only one thought in mind, killing the Khal; his beard reached his chest and was threaded with gold as medallions rested on his belt. He had an arkah in his left hand, but he struggled to look through the black smoke as he choked on it. He could see the tears of irritation that flooded in his eyes as he investigated the darkness.

Many of his men were looking to the sky, unsure who they should be fighting; Aegon could feel the budding warmth of Ares at his back. His crimson scales were burning with blood, the black hot smoke leaving his lip as the rotten scent of eggs plunged into his nose, stabbing at his nose.

The smoke began to flood the Khal’s eyes as they came bright red and irritated. Aegon was so consumed with killing him; the khal didn't notice that Aegon was driving his red stallion so hard that his hooves slammed hard into the ground unearthing the dirt that smoldered from the flames of the young dragons.

Gripping tightly to his sword, he lurched forward. The heavy pants of his horses were the last thing that he would hear. His eyes snapped wide open as doubt burned in them, but it was too late.

Aegon’s gleaming blade sliced through the air as his heart thundered in his chest as his arkah sliced through the air and slammed into his neck with a sickening crunch. The roars of men stopped as the powerful batting of dragon’s wings whipped away the smoke, and as it settled, the roar of battle stopped.

The sight of Dothraki men swirled around Aegon as he watched their eyes still on his face as Aegon glared at each of them. The silence only intensified the moment, then there was this roar of joy as he lifted the severed head of the very fool.

Aegon could see the Enyo looming over two dead men that looked to be blood riders, off in the distance, Aegon could see Dany off to the side panting heavily with blood splattered across his face. Aegon’s heart lurched as he noticed that the blood was not hers. She had one hand placed on her back and the other gripping tightly to a dagger that was covered in blood.

Jhogo and Rakharo were standing beside her pride in their eyes, Aegon saw them during the battle. Arrax and Baratheon bathed her in flames as she darted through them, slashing at the throats of the younger Dothraki, she had some trouble, but that was when the dragons intended the most.

Aegon's heart was hammering in his chest. He was worried that something was going to happen to his wife and child, but she seemed okay for now. Only time would tell if anything terrible happened to their child, they wouldn’t know until after he was born. Aegon's men roared with rage and power as he looked over to Dany then Enyo. 

Once they gathered up the whole horde with the silver-haired Khal and Khaleesi, both with power in their eyes as they looked at the fresh horde they had just conquered, he knew that there are like five other major khalasar. They would take them all one at a time, and now the other hordes knew not to mess with them blindly.

“If you are slaves, we will be free, if you want to leave, we will absolve you, if you want to challenge then come at us but be ready to die. Now we are going to Vaes Dothrak. My son will be the stallion who mounts the world. You must choose death or life.” Daenerys spoke with her chin jutted out.

There was a sneer on her lips as she looked out to the rest, knowing that they would be at Vaes Dothrak in a matter of 10 minutes if not half an hour.

They would take the Dothraki and then move on to Qarth; they needed ships to get to the slave cities.

They were ready for the next plan, no more playing it safe, not, with 20,000 Dothraki at their back and another 80,000 waiting.


	31. They Start To Make Moves

Benjen II

_ Deep Wood Motte _

The thick winter pines of the Wolfswood greeted him as the heavy winter air filled his lungs, sitting heavy like lead as his heart thundered in anticipation. Blanketing grey clouds hung in the sky, as much a part of the Northern charm as the snow itself. He knew that he needed this work or else he would have put himself at risk and then there would be no way that he would be able to take this back. 

After all, not shortly before he left Winterfell, he received a letter from his elder brother the words still haunted him. He knew that the brother was stubborn, but he did not think that he was this stubborn to outright refuse this truth. Of course, he knew that he would not simply take it on faith, but he thought he would have trusted him more than that.

Why would their brother make up the lie? How the hell could this go so wrong? Benjen knew the only one more desperate to believe that his sister was alive more than he was Ned. Yet here is his vehemently denying the truth, Dacey and Lyra never came back and he knew why. They had found them, and all connections had to be cut off to keep them in secret. He only hoped that he could get to the Karstarks and the Glovers to his own Mormont force. 

Even now as he travels throughout the north the cold is biting into his skin, but nothing compared to the icy winter chill of the wind. Word swam in front of his eyes as no much up the fight against it, it was as if no matter how much he tried to ignore it, it just came back to keep coming back up to his mind. He did not need the paper to know the exact words that fluttered across his mind day in and day out. 

“ _Benjen I have been told by Ser Barristan, that Lyanna is alive and well. I know that he deceived you and I ask that you think about your children. You lost your son to the wildlings, do not lose your daughters to the Targaryens. If you come south, I will assure your safety just tell Robert all that you know about the Targaryens and he will let you return to the island and my son will be Warden. His name day is coming up he will be the lord of Winterfell and you will be allowed to live out your days on the island. Please make the right choice they took our father; our brother and our sister don't let them worm into your mind the way that they do so many others._ ” 

The letters word had a way of taunting Benjen, he knew that Ned would regret his actions the moment that he saw his sister he would know that he made all the wrong choices and he would not be able to change his way he will regret his actions and by then it will be too late. 

Benjen's travels were not without hardship, but this letter was the most taunting thing about all of this. The spring snows had been growing more intense and incumbent, Benjen’s mind was weary from weeks of riding and now he was finally ready to rest. Instead of a fortnight, a month had passed the spring flurries were rough he knew that the moment he got the support he needed, he could not return to Winterfell he was no fool. 

The letter was sent to him more than a month ago. Ned would take his silence as his answer and he had no intention of going to war with his brother and his nephew. A great sense of sorrow overtook him. It would be stark against stark like it had once been Targaryen against Targaryen. He would not let this war rip him apart and he would not let it turn him into a monster. 

The pale white sunlight did nothing to warm his body as he pulled my furs closer to him. His eyes were scanning the massive castle that was the home of house Glover, one of only two families that loved Lyanna more than they loved Ned or feared Robert. 

Deepwood lies in the northern wolfswood, east of Sea Dragon Point. North of Deepwood Motte lie tidal flats leading to the Bay of Ice. Deepwood is five leagues south of the sea and one hundred leagues northwest of Winterfell. Karhold is further from Winterfell so it only made sense for him to come here first. 

Not to mention that Deepwood would be a short boat ride from Bear Island if things worked out well the force of Deepwood would ally with the small fleet of Bear Island and together they would make their way to Karhold. He knew that he would have to take the forces east the moment that they heard that we did not only ignore their words of advice from his brother. They Would search the whole North for them; it would be neighbor against neighbor and Benjen could not let the North rip itself apart.

Deepwood is an old but not particularly strong castle. Its longhall sits on a hill with a flattened top and a watchtower rising fifty feet higher, the tallest object this side of the northern mountains. Below the hill is a bailey containing stables, paddock, smithy, well, and sheepfold. They are defended by a ditch, earthen dike, and palisade of logs. Deepwood's mossy outer walls are protected by two square towers and wall walks. East and west of the castle are fields of oat and barley.

The glovers were fierce warriors and Benjen knew that they would do anything for Lyanna as long as they had cause to go with Benjen to the east, to Karhold to make sure that she was alive and well and they were not plunging the North into a struggle for anything less than the she-wolf that bewitched all of the North with her power and her beauty. 

The tactful Galbart is considered a good, loyal, and steady man, if unexceptional was standing before the gate his gaze hard and unaware as deep blue eyes were locked on Benjen. His fiery and wild mane rippled in the smooth icy winds that were ripping through his scalp. 

His form was rigid as he stood firm, in black armor and chainmail, his plate was etched with scales, and his large sword rested on his back. His blue eyes stared back at me, cold and calculating, his chin jutted out, in the prideful way that most lords look. But there was a small smile pulling at his lips as the imposing lord persona began to end. 

“Benjen to what do I owe this pleasure?” His thick northern accent filled the air. 

His eyes were scanning the Mormont men behind Benjen and not the Stark men, he knew that whatever he had to do he did not want the starks to know about. Benjen thought that it was strange that he could not trust his own family’s men, men that he knew since he was a child would side with their lord no matter what. The thought saddened Benjen as he smiled weakly at the man he knew for such a long time that it was hard to believe that he had not seen him since he became warden of the North. 

“I have news about the Targaryens about Lyanna. We should talk inside; you never know what prying ears are watching us.” Benjen spoke in a smooth and diplomatic voice. 

Benjen watched as Lord Glover's eyes threatened to pop out of his skull. He could not understand what was going on and he understood the confusion. What could the Targaryens have to do with the Northerners after all they were the ones that were in the most remote part of the seven kingdoms there is no need to worry about them let alone bring up Lyanna. After all, she had been dead for nearly 15 years. Confusion and doubt wormed its way into the stare of Glover, the doubt in his eyes forced a small smile to pull at Benjen’s lips. 

In fact, he swore that he might even have seen the hope that was twinkling in the stare of the Glover lord. Benjen’s fingers seemed to grow moist as he looked back to his second daughter. She had the harsh beauty of Bear Island. Her thick black curls were cut short as her bright gray eyes were locked on the massive castle. She had a sweet smile and a long face; Lillian was looking around with wonder in her eyes. 

There was a smug smile on her face as her fingers were twirling around the worn leather hilt of the dagger that she took pride in welding at such a young age. She was only a year older than Brandon but her fighting skill far surpassed the young lord's path who even now is training in the south. She had a lean form all their children did, both were thin, Lyra had her mother's height and Lillian had her father's short stature. 

Even now Benjen 's youngest daughter was already learning the finer parts of war; they couldn't afford to be weak like the women of the south. They could not afford to not partake in the Martial arts, not when Krakens and Wilding scum that attacked their home. He would not and could not live if he lost another child. He could not live with the thought of knowing that he could not protect them and having them here was the only way to make sure that they were safe was to be with him this whole time. 

He knew that it would seem odd to Robb and the rest of the staff at Winterfell, but he did not plan on ever going back there no matter what happened. He knew that by now the Wardens would have been gathered in the city and they would be talking about next moves and his betrayal. 

He knew that they would send men to Winterfell and they would get there right around time so that he would make it to the Karstarks, and his children would be at the end of the non-existent mercy.

Lord Glover simply nodded his head mutely and together they walked into the castle there was gloomy darkness that fluttered over the air. Melancholy seemed to go to the bones of Benjen his mind was rushing back to his wife in the east to the family that he never met worry etched its way into his mind hoping that he would make it back to them with at least some kind of support 

The walk to the private solar of lord Glover did not last long and the lord of Deepwood collapsed into his chair his shoulders sinking because he knew that whatever they were about to talk about was not anything good. Not if it had something to do with Lyanna. She was the light of the North filled with a wild joy that brightened all the castle of the North to think that she was dead or that whatever is going on has to do with her is doubtful. 

But the moment that he looked over to Benjen he could see this fierce light in his eyes like he would be selling something that he would not like. 

Lord Stark spoke with conviction and devotion, “The Targaryens are the true rulers, they are family in more than just law but in blood. Lyanna is not dead; she never was the rebellion was based on the mad ravings of a bitter man who lost the woman he was engaged to that never absolutely loved him. Lyanna married Rhaegar and had three children. Even now they make their way through the great grass sea. Dacey and Lyra went after them and found them, and Lyanna sent this to me. This is not some fool's dream, it is real. She is alive.” 

Benjen started to get excited as his fingers shook the smooth brown parchment tapping against the words of his sister, then after a moment, he handed it over. It was the only thing keeping him going, the only thing keeping him from giving up and going to his brother begging for his forgiveness that he knew would never come. Lord Glover looked over to Benjen his eyes widening with sheer doubt and misguided rage. 

He knew that if the king had even heard word of this then he would have attacked and killed them all, Roberts rage knew no bounds. He hunted the Targaryen children still even after almost 15 years since the start of the war. Hell, there are on a different landmass and he still found a way to send spies and assassins after them Lord Glover did not need that kind of rage brought down on his house. 

But he loved Lyanna like a sister. She was as much his family as she was Benjen’s; they were good friends, their families had always been allies and Benjen nervously looked down on the Glovers like he was worried he would have said no.

All the North loved her but some loved Brandon more. He knew that was why Benjen was here. If Lyanna was alive it would matter, the love that the north held for her father and brother and the hatred that they have for the dragons outweighed any love that he might have had for her. 

But he did not have that problem. He often clashed with Brandon, he wanted to marry the young and beautiful Lyanna Stark, but Brandon would never allow it. Lord Glover could not fight the urge to sit a little further. His fingers were running along the note as Benjen handed it over to him, Benjen could see the way that Lord Glover's eyes were running around the letter taking in each stroke of her quill as if the words were floating off of the page. 

Benjen’s heart was pounding in anticipation as his blood rushed and his mind went blank, his tongue was clicking against his teeth as he tried to stifle the anticipation that was bubbling in his chest. He could not make himself calm even if he tried his mind and heart would not allow it. After taking in a deep breath he let his mind clear as best that he could. He needed this to work and he did not have time to tiptoe around any of it. 

After a few stilling moments he let out a heavy sigh there was a heavy frown on his face as he looked up to the very lord that a moment ago until he read the letter and thought that he was crazy. But Glover knew Lyanna’s hand and he knew that Benjen was not that smart to manipulate the facts so that he could take over control of the North. But now he knew better but he still did not know what this had to do with him. 

“So what? You need us but for what?” Lord Glover spoke in a heavy voice 

As if his words were going to sink into Benjen’s skin and burrow deep into his mind as his fingers drummed against his leg as he was not sure how many he should tell but he knew that he was going to need their ships and the Bear islands ships to sail over to the east. He knew that the Karhold had only enough ships to transport their forces they would need the collective ships of the island and the two fortresses just to get them east and he knew that there is no way that he would be able to know which free city they should land at or even if they could be trusted. 

Targaryens are a hot commodity and anyone would do anything to get money including selling children to a murderous king. 

“Your men and your ships, a mix between both my islands ships and your ship that should be enough ships to get the forces to Karhold, and once we win over the Karstarks we will head east we all know that the rest of the North will rally to Ned’s side and we would be outnumbered but in the east here is a Dothraki host waiting for us. We can gather whatever we need in the east. If you still doubt that Lyanna is alive then come with me to the east and see for yourself.” Benjen spoke as if he was selling a dream. 

Though he could see that Lord Glover was buying the dream as he let out a heavy sigh, his eyes calculating and moving quickly, he could see all of the options before him and he was trying to figure out which one was the right one. After a long moment, he took a deep breath and nodded his head heavily rubbing his brow as he started to rise from the chair. 

“Alright then let's gather the ships and the men we can't say in the North much longer I heard that the Wardens are gathering they had been preparing for war but knew nothing about why they were going to war. I am sure that they will be finding out now. We should get going and quickly Robb is a good boy, but he didn't know his aunt and he would not keep you leaving Winterfell a secret much longer.” Ser Glover spoke through his cloak back as he jumped to his feet. 

His men were moving about the castle with purpose, up next Karhold. 

Benjen nodded his head firmly before he spoke quickly, “I need one more thing Ser Barristan the bold was thrown in a black cell he had been protecting Lyanna and Rhaegar I need him out he is the only one that might know where they are going to go next”

One thing was for sure they would need Ser Barristan the bold or else they would look at the Northern party as allies to Robert and there is nothing further from the truth. 

* * *

Robb II

The cold seeped deep in the bones of Robb the young lord of Winterfell he couldn't understand why he was lord of Winterfell the moment his uncle left he knew that something was going down when he took Lillian and Mya. Theon sat back in his own chair not caring that Benjen was gone, simply happy that he was. 

He could always see the bitter hate that flooded the eyes of Benjen each time that he looked to Theon all he could see were the rappers and reavers of the Iron island. The reason that his daughter could not be a proper lady. The reason that they are forced to be a warrior because of the Iron born, Theon was bitter. How was it his fault that his people invaded their island?

It was not fair how is it Theon’s fault he did nothing wrong, he caught shit from Catelyn for simply breathing he did not want to have to take it from a false lord. Now he was gone, and he could not be happier but when he left the Mormont’s that he had brought with him was gone as well. All the food that he brought was even taken away. He looked over to Robb, his fingers twirling in Greywind’s silky dark gray fur Golden eyes scanning every inch of the room. 

“Maester Luwin, please get me a quill and paper. I must send a letter to my father.” Robb spoke in a cool voice. 

Though his bright blue eyes were locked on his own paper, a letter sent to him by his father, his head began to dip as he let his chin rest in his free hand. Letting his fingers run along the smooth paper letter that his father sent him nearly two months ago. 

“ _Dear Robb things are evolving at a rapid pace and I don't know what the state of the southern realm will be in by the time that this reaches you. But what I must tell you is important: commit every word to memory then burn the paper. Your uncle Benjen is a traitor, he let the poisonous words of the Targaryens worm their way into his mind and he is acting against the family if you find him locked away. I am fighting for his life here in the south but there is no way of knowing if Robert was going to ever forgive him but he might let him live out his days on the island to make sure he knows that. Now, this next part of the letter is just for you. The Tyrells were once loyal allies to the Targaryens, now they are coming to our shores and need to be ready. A betrothal between you and Lady Margaery she the golden rose of the reach. Your marriage announcement will be made public but if you see or hear from Benjen send a letter.” Ned's words haunted Robb_.

Robb leaned back in his chair as Maester Luywin nodded his head firmly, he knew that he would have to go south one of these days. Soon his sister would be getting married, his father was warden of the North and would stand-in for the North. But he was sure that there was no way the Southern high born would allow for their precious golden rose to be married in the bleak north. But now there was a more pressing matter to deal with. 

Benjen Stark. 

Where was he going and why was he going there? 

These are the only two questions that fluttered across his mind like a never-ending loop, it made him wonder if they were really going to go to war in his lifetime. He was not like his sister; he had no grand delusion of war and adventure; he knew that it was blood and dark. He could see it every time that he looked at his father and asked about the Rebellion. His father would never tell them stories but in those few moments that he looked back on his life, all he could see was this pain that fluttered across his stare. 

He could only hope that they were all being paranoid and that there would be no Targaryens but just if he had to let him know that Benjen left for Deepwood. Hopefully, they would do anything foolish the stag kings’ wraith is known even here in the North. He was not silly enough to cause an uproar in the North. 

* * *

Cersei II 

The heat and the fan fair have long outstayed their welcome. The filthy masses of the city came to watch as lords and ladies among the 7 kingdoms rushed off the royal wedding and the feast that would come after it. But Cersei was looking forward not to the wedding or the banquet that was to go after but the moment in between where she would sneak off to be with the rest of the Wardens meeting to talk about the Targaryens. 

Robert stood mute at Cersei’s side, the thought of the fat man disgusted him knowing that Rhaegar was alive and still chose anyone over her and that would drive her to a murderous rage. Robert looked clearly bored with all of this; his eyes were focused on a master smith. He was making his way over to us and as he got closer. He insisted that his son needed to know how to wield a sword; the war was coming and no son of his would-be hidden away in the rearguard. 

A soft gale of wind forced the shimmering golden hair of Cersei to brush against her shoulders like a gentle caress, the wind rippled not only her hair but the warm shit riddle air of Kings Landings. 

The sept began to envelop Cersei enclosing her body, but her mind was on the secret meeting to come. 

The Great Sept of Baelor is named after the Septon-King Baelor the Blessed yet another Targaryen was invading their life one way or another. No matter what happened the Targaryens were always going to be a large part of the realms life whether they wanted to admit it or not the legacy of the Targaryens would be written in Stone. 

The heat poured down on Cersei as he stood atop Visenya's Hill, surrounded by a white marble plaza. Cersei could barely think straight as she leaned against the statue of Baelor, he stood tall as he loomed overhead staring at the bastard’s boys. Jaime rested at Cersei back, his hand lovingly stroking the golden lion pommel of his sword. But she was not paying him the least bit of attention as she felt a strange shift of the wind at her back. 

She could feel a small hand on her back as a ghosting warm breath ran across the back of her neck as her hair began to stand on the back of her neck as a husky voice filled her ears. 

“We have gotten word from the east” Little Finger spoke in a husky voice.

Cersei did not dare turn back. She watched as people walked about the courtyard filled with joy for the wedding that was to come in a mere moment. Arya the little devil was running about with her wolf though there was a look of hatred fluttering across her face every time that she ran into one of the Lannister. Nymeria her dire wolf was the tamest thing about the young girl as she walked about in smooth gray slicks with shimmering onyx along the trim. Her ratty brown hair was shimmering as it rippled down her back in an intricate braid. 

Her shimmering eyes were locked on Cersei for a moment before walking off, she often heard that she was like Lyanna, wild, and filled with Northern pride. She did not like the look of her, not that it mattered. She was running about with her youngest brother Rickon who could come down for the wedding. 

He was starting to fill out, growing more muscle as he worked hard at his swordplay with the knights at the Vale. His elder brother Bran was much the same, he was sad at first when he found out that Ser Barristan was thrown in a black cell. But he got better with time learning from Ser Jory. Both were outpacing her own son and that forced disgust to feed her mind. They are no good commoners they cannot and will not outpace her own children in the Martial arts. 

The Targaryen kings set a precedent with Aegon the conqueror that if they fight their own battles, people will not respect a weak king. Jaehaerys was a boy but he organized the realm back together and took over the realm so her sons could not afford to look weak. 

“The man that had been holding the Targaryens lost his head to them, they have descended into the great grass sea that is when the details get a little fuzzy. Depending on who you ask they are alive and ruling over the great grass sea. Or they are dead and the Dothraki dance over their crops. There is however an even stranger tale….” Little Finger let his voice draw on. 

His eyes scanning the smooth ripple crimson curls of Lady Stark who was brimming with a nervous energy that was filling her. Blue eyes scanning the children hoping that they were going to be well behaved. 

Cersei’s mind was rushing back to the east, what could be the stranger tale, she wanted to snap her head back to know what this tale was but she fought the urge as she gave a warm tight lip smile like she was sure that someone was watching them. 

“Oh, and what would that be?” Cersei spoke through clenched teeth.

There was this murderous power that flooded against her skin; she wanted to know what Rhaegar and his brat siblings were up to. 

“I heard that a snow haired prince with indigo eyes has been taking over the great grass sea one horde at a time. He rides at a horde of 20,000 and grows stronger with each day. Rhaegar has been missing for 14 years who’s to say that he didn't get remarried and have more children?” Little Finger’s voice was taunting. 

Cersei’s body stilled as she resisted the urge to sneer, was any warm body good if it was not her? She did not see a wire and just pushed off the smooth statue of Baelor as she began to walk off toward the sept.

The sept is an impressive marble dome structure with seven crystal towers, each of which has bells. Only to ring on momentous occasions, such as the death of a king if the gods are good that might be soon. 

The lofty dome is made of glass and gold and crystal that shines in the light and around the doors leading into the building is a raised marble pulpit from which a septon can address a gathering crowd.

Looking across the smooth marled plaza Cersei could see Lord Stark he pulled at the collar of his tunic. A smooth silk white tunic with sharp silver trim and a snarling dire wolf rested on his back. His guards were dressed in boiled leather. With one standing on either side of him. Though there was darkness fluttering across his face as he thought about something unpleasant, he had been strange since he threw Ser Barristan in a cell. He did not want to talk about the reason that he was thrown in a cell just yet but now he would no longer be able to lie about why he threw him in a cell. 

The golden light shone down on Cersei bathing her skin in stifling warmth as sweat threatened to pour from his pores at any time. Looking back to Lord Stark Cersei could see the dire wolf resting at his heels. Ghost but he was different he was always silent at Ned side but now he seemed to be drinking in every like he had someone that he had to report back to. Though Cersei knew that thought was foolish.

Cersei started to make her way to the entrance hall, through the double-doors, is the sept-proper, with seven broad aisles which meet beneath the dome. Its floors are made of marble, and great windows of leaded, colored glass, and the seven altars are set about with candles. Though there were no candles today only colorful glowing light pooling in from the stained windows. 

Cersei could see all the Warden watching as they waited for the future queen of the realm to make her way into the room. She knew that each one of them was interested in finding out why they were preparing for a war that still has not come. She knew that they would all be shocked into silence. There would be no more doubt the truth about Jon Arryn's death had not been made public knowledge but at this meeting, it would be. 

As Cersei looked around the large sept noting that the prince of Dorne was missing she knew that was because of his bad case of gout but he would usually send his brother in his place but even he was missing. Cersei knew that winning over Dorne would be the key to that. Her father’s men killed the Targaryen children who also happen to be Martells. She was no fool; they would be nervous against them when it came to Rhaegar unless they gave him something that they wanted. 

Instead one of his bastard Nym Martell was standing off to the side she was a vision of true beauty and power as she stood firm off to the side. She knew that there had to be all kinds of poison and weapons hidden under her clothes. Cersei was sure that she was here as a spy not for Dorne. A sneer pulled at her lip as she forced herself to keep a blank mask on her face as she waited for the ceremony to come underway. 

Once the hall was flooded Joffrey walked down into the hall. He wore a crimson doublet with gold trim and a long flowing black cloak with an etched elk made of gold. The prancing beast greeted Cersei as it made her think of her brother. The twisted little beast would be at Ebonhead by now and he would beat Stannis by a few days, enough time to find out what they needed to know. Soon the whole sept was filed all Cersei watched as Lord Stark walked into the room with a vision of beauty and a cold stabbing pain filled her chest. 

A queen is younger and more beautiful than you. 

The taunting words from that which echoed in my mind as disgusted rolled over me. Sansa is traditionally beautiful, with her high cheekbones, vivid blue eyes, and thick auburn hair rolling down her shoulder in thick ringlets. Her figure tall, graceful, and womanly for a 14-year old that is. The sight of her forced rolling hate to come crashing down on Cersei. 

First, she thought that want Lyanna, but she was long since dead or that was what she was hoping for, then she thought that it might have been the rising queen of the east, Daenerys Targaryen. But now she is not so sure it could be Daenerys, or it could be Sansa. So much doubt while in her mind that she could barely think straight. 

Sansa wore a smooth twilight purple gown that brought out the blue in her eyes, she walked gracefully on her father's arm both taking in long strong strides filled with purpose. Her cloak was far more elegant than Joffrey’s. A shimmed tapestry of silver stared back at me as the snarling dire wolf was entirely made from the onyx mined from the North. Her cheeks were peppered with a blush.

They would be married in a matter of minutes, but it made Cersei wonder if they were here enjoying this wedding ceremony. What are the Targaryens up to? 

* * *

Enyo III

There was this darkness that had fluttered over the city. Enyo could feel it, she looked around the city and she could see the eyes of five Khal. Each one of them had 10,000 Dothraki riders, each one more dangerous than the one before it. Enyo could feel the fluttering doubt and fear filling their eyes as they looked at the Targaryens. Aegon, Enyo, and Daenerys were sitting at the head of the pack on their wild stallions and young filly. 

The tension in the air forced a shudder to rush down the spines of lesser men as they watched the young Khal and his Khaleesi. Soot and blood still rested in their hair and hands they were mere meters from the city limits knowing that if they tried to attack them then they would have lost. But teaming up was not the Dothraki way and that was the only thing that they had going for them. 

The largest of the five Khal’s was resting in front of the city with 50,000 men behind them, their horse paws lovely at the ground as they fought off the fear that they were feeling. Ares, Toxicana, and Balerion were flying overhead murderous eyes locked on the horde ready to attack them at a moment's notice. They must have heard the roar of battle just a few hundred yards away. The smoke was still rising in the air, the Targaryens were not ready for another battle but they knew that they ended to do something and quickly. 

“You took the lives of two Khal’s. That means everything they had was yours. That does not mean that we will allow you or your beast to roam these grasslands for long. Since we are just outside the city gate, we will let you live that does not mean that when you leave the city that we will let your arrogance continue.” Rustic Dothraki spilled from his lips. 

Aegon simply smiled as he looked over to Enyo as if silently asking her how they plan on keeping from dying. A warm smile pulled at his lips as his warm beaming smile pulled at his lips. Though Ares echoed the rage that he was not showing him. 

Bright red flames burst forth as Helios snarled as he barreled out of the tall grass. Enyo’s heart threatened to boom louder in her ears as she felt the rage bubbling in her chest. Nala came stalking slowly through the horde watching the Dothraki as Aegon spoke. 

“Should a dragon fear a horse, I might have silver hair and I might not be Dothraki but I am a Khal and I abide by the rules and culture of the great grass sea we will not bring weapons into the city.” His voice was warm as the guttural Dothraki did not match the warmth in his tone. 

Enyo could not help but smile as a dangerous thought pulled into her mind as she looked over to Aegon and Daenerys speaking in high Valyrian so that the Dothraki could not understand them. Occasionally, they would meet a few Dothraki that could speak the common tongue. But they had yet to meet a Dothraki screamer that spoke high Valyrian. 

“It's like you said we can't bring weapons into the city, but we don't need them. Later tonight or even tomorrow we collect the Khal, tell them that we want to speak, and then burn them. We will have broken no rules.” Enyo spoke with pride. 

Aegon's warm smile turned cunning as Daenerys echoed some even more sage words, “Fire and blood they will supply the blood we will supply the fire, our son is going to need a dragon we hatch the blue egg leave it in the flames and when we walk out of the flames they will have no choice but to side with us or die.” Daenerys spoke in such a matter of fact voice that she made it seem easy 

Aegon on the other hand looked outraged at the thought and the plan, “No you have no idea how walking into the flames will affect Rhaegar and we have no way of knowing that they will really stand down they are going to break the rule the moment that we do are you out of your minds? No, we are not doing this.” Aegon’s voice was forceful and rising. 

Anyone that could speak high Valyrian, snapped their heads up as they looked on with curious eyes. But Enyo was not going to let him force her into a bubble; it was a good plan, and she knew that it had merit. She knew that Dany sided with her; they might not see eye to eye on a lot of things, but this was one thing that they both agreed on. 

“I'm not pregnant and you aren't. We will have a father and the knights on standby and have our blood riders just outside of the building. The moment that we can emerge from the flames even if they do revolt there will be armed guards and if you are really that worried then Dany can stay on the outside.” Enyo spoke in a pensive voice. 

Trying to force the rage down that was filling her chest, her eyes were scanning the Dothraki watching as men stripped off their weapons as they made their way into the city. The moment that they started to make their way into the city and the herd began to thin out Enyo noticed that Ser Jorah was rushing over to them. A sense of joy and refile rushed over her as she finally realized that for the moment Viserys was no longer in their life and that filled her with joy, she was glad to have them out of their lives. 

There was a sneer on her face when she thought about Viserys, but that sneer had more for the fact that Aegon was trying to control her, something that he swore that he would never do to her. There was a dangerous aura forming around Enyo as Dany did her best to try and temper the rage that was threatening to overwhelm both. 

“Calm down the both of you, I don't plan on letting anyone risk their life for me if I can't do the same for them. Our son will be a dragon lord born into a world where dragons are real. I have no fears that he will be hurt neither should you. Enyo’s plan is right, and I would have suggested the very same thing in a moment. We can sneak a few blades in, just one for Ser Jorah and Rhaegar’s knights. They will not notice four blades in a sea of people. It will be fine now we have to present our child to the Dosh Kaleen as if customary. After all, if we are to rule over these people, we need to adhere to some of their customs. This is one that I must do for our son and I will never be anything more than spoiled children married to a powerful man if I do not prove myself.” Daenerys spoke in a smooth and sweet voice. 

There was fury in their eyes as smoke and soot stilled litter her golden skin she did fight well and her people did see her in a different light But Daenerys was no fool. She knew that it would take more than one battle to make her a true warrior in the eyes of her people. Aegon let out a heavy breath his shoulder shaking with unspoken rage, but he knew that there was nothing that he could do about it. The same stubborn determination that he had he knew both his wives had as well. There was no point in arguing unless he wanted to be annoyed by both women. He could only nod his head as his shoulder deflated and his chest caved in. 

“Very well then we should get going. We would not want to spend our day talking, Drogo had a manse here. Aggo is going to lead the way. We should be careful even though this is the city of Vaes Dothrak that does not mean that Roberts spies will not be lurking. Poor westerners who fled east often become traders. We need to be careful, keep the dragons out of sight until we get to the manse.” Aegon spoke in a quicken voice as Enyo and Dany both nodded their heads gravely.

Doing their best to hide the joy in their face because they knew that they had won him over, though it was something easy to do it was always amusing here all the same. Enyo watched for a few moments as Ares and the others ascended high into the sky to the point that they could not be seen but Enyo felt their heated gaze pressing against her form. 

“That looked to be serious,” Lyra spoke in an amused voice. 

Agon was riding off fast with Dany easily keeping up the pace as Lyra rode at Enyo’s side flicking her gaze over to her cousin Ser Jorah. She did not know the older man all that well, but she knew that he had shamed the family with his actions if he thought that this was going to change his standing with their family. Lyra was enthused by the thought of having cousins and a great cousin coming.

“Just had to put Egg in his place, he needs an ego check every once in a while.” A sly grin pulled at Enyo’s face as she spoke. 

Lyra and she had gotten close in the few weeks that they were here, they had only been in the great grass sea in two months. As they moved about the city there could see these massive, gorgeous status and bustling crows.

Each of them placed their weapons at the entrance before making their way into the city. Their eyes were wide with doubt not only was there a foreigner khal he took over two hordes. 

The markets were busy and alive with joy as Lyra and Enyo both looked around with joy in their eyes. They had never been to such a worldly market before. Both hidden away in the vast wilderness their whole lives they had never seen something so vibrant and alive, so the two girls were filled with excitement as they spent the rest of their day shopping 

* * *

Lyra II

“She has to eat the whole heart?” Lyra question. 

Her cousin Aegon was sitting on his throne with his blood riders all around them, Enyo with her curvy form leaned against the smooth throne letting one of her arms drapes over Aegon’s shoulder. Her smoke-gray eyes turning an almost black color as her ample breast was pressed against Aegon. Enyo knew that there were hungry stares of men on her, but she did not fear what they would do to her. She knew that Aegon would take their eyes for simply thinking about raping her. 

Enyo’s dark gray eyes were scanning every inch of Daenery’s face. A daring and proud look on her face as she witnessed the strength and control of the women that she shared a husband with. 

Lyra did not understand how they were both just so okay with sharing a husband, she knew that there was a difference between western women and Valyrian women. Lyra never thought that it was true other than the fact that they could ride dragons.

But they had this charisma about them, a determination and will of fire that other women in the west did not have. Even the people of the North could not match their will or strength of character. They must have been secured in their position. 

“I hope that wasn’t my horse.” Ser Whent joked with dark humor. 

Lyra could not help but smile as she looked over to the man with dark eyes and an even darker sense of humor. There was a small smile pulling at his face as he gave Lyra an amused wink before turning back to the large group. 

There were Dothraki chanting and watching as a black-haired only woman spoke in a billowing tone. But all eyes were on the silver-haired queen in her Dothraki grab. Her hair braided and oiled as crimson fluid bathed her arms and mouth. A massive red organ gripped tightly in her hands. 

Ser Jorah didn't so much as look at Ser Whent, Lyra knew that Ser Jorah did not like or trust Ser Whent and the other knights; they might be noble, and they did a good job in protecting Rhaegar, but they were Rhaegar’s knights and not Aegon and Dany’s. She knew that and she had only been with them for about 2 weeks. Instead, she started to turn back as her cousin spoke in a low voice. 

“She’s doing well.” Ser Jorah spoke with parental pride blooming in his eyes. 

Lyra could not help but feel a spike of jealousy as she noticed the paternal pride that seemed to fill his eyes for the student that stood before him. Dacey on the other hand was standing off to the side moving to stand on the left of her cousin. 

“She’ll never keep it down. Tell me what she’s saying.” Dacey spoke in a smooth questioning voice. 

There was confusion filling her stare, while her and her daughter as well as their 10 men had been a part of the group for a little bit they were not here long enough to pick up even the slightest bit of Dothraki. So, it was hard for them to follow a common conversation between the group and the king and Queens. 

“The prince is riding. I have heard the thunder of his hooves. Swift as the wind he rides. His enemies will cower before him and their wives will weep tears of blood. She’s going to have a boy.” Ser Jorah was shocked he had a knee that the princess was pregnant but did not know the gender. 

Dacey looked over to Ser Jorah watching his face change as his eyes were scanning the women that were speaking in that same guttural tongue. 

“The stallion who mounts the world. The stallion is the khal of khals. Aegon shall be the stallion, he shall unite the people into a single khalasar. All the people of the world will be his herd.” Ser Jorah spoke in a cool voice. 

The moment that he spoke he could sense the gravity of his worlds as all the people in the tent turned to look to Aegon. He seemed to be stunned and not sure what he had to say. He was shrinking away from the prophecy like he did not understand how he could be the khal of khals. 

Aegon thought that his son was going to be the stallion who mounts the world not him, confusion fluttered across his face as he looked over to Dany with desperate eyes wishing that she could and would change their attention back to her. 

Blood ripple down her face as she bent over like she looked like she was going to vomit forcing all their heads to snap back to the khal of khal’s bride. Only when she started to rise, did Lyra figure out that it was an act. That she did not vomit at all, there was this playful smile on her face like she knew that Aegon would owe her one in the future. There was a warmth blooming in her as Dany felt the fire rush through their veins as blood and venom pooled into her body as she spoke with pride on her face. 

“A prince ride inside me! And he shall be called Rhaego! His father will be the khal and khal’s and he will be the khal after him” Daenerys roared in perfect Dothraki. 

The khal that had tried to sit in on the ceremony was now unnerved there was a stallion that would mount the world, but they always thought that it would be one of them that mounted the world. Not some silver-haired brat that has only golden skin because of the exposure to the sun. It made them all wonder how much time they had left. People began to roar with power and fury. 

“Rhaego!”

“Rhaego!”

“Rhaego!”

“Rhaego!”

“Rhaego!”

“Rhaego…”

“They love her,” Lyra spoke in aww and as she did, but their attention changed to Aegon. 

His blood riders roared with pride, “The Khal of Khals Aegon Targaryen, and his fearless Khaleesi Daenerys and Enyo!” Aggo roared. 

The chants were a mix of four names and panic ensued the Khals as they rushed out the tent Ser Jorah knew that they are going to be planning something ready to attack the minute that they got the chance that they were about to break the rules of Vaes Dothrak. Daenerys who was being lifted and treated like a goddess. While men and women alive dance and bow before Aegon and Enyo. 

“She truly is a queen today.” Ser Jorah spoke with pride. 

Lyra simply watched as her cousins were treated like gods among men. 

Thinking what could be next. 

* * *

Aegon VI

Things were tense and strange which is not all that shocking after they confusion that Aegon was going to be the khal of khals. He had thought that it was going to be his son that mounted the world but could he be wrong could taking over the east just be his first stop in taking over all the landmasses in the world. He never wanted that he just wanted his family safe was this the only way that he could do it. 

“Jorah the Andal was right, the Khals are gathering, their men, are gathering weapons, they are going to talk without you. Their blood riders are mobilizing and grabbing weapons. They will not let you be the Khal of Khals.” Jhogo spoke in a cool voice. 

His eyes were excited, and his mind was searching as Aegon nodded his head firmly he knew that if they were given too much time that they would kill them all. 

“Very well then, we will strike first, Aggo takes some of the warriors and gathers weapons, Rakharo gathers up the women, children and fighting men tell them that the Khal of Khal is making an announcement. Jhogo collects the rest of our fighting men and forms a firm line around the gather masses. We will slaughter our oppressors and give those who try to chain us a front-row seat to their demise.” A sneer pulled Aegon's lips as he looked over to Dany. 

She had a warm smile on her face as her fingers were stroking both the cerulean blue egg and her rounded stomach. There was excitement filling her stare as she looked over to Enyo who looked ready for a battle. 

Her fingers were twitching as she wished nothing more than anything that she had never given up Darksister. But she knew that there was a flaming sword resting in their manse waiting to be used. 

“Let's put these men in their place,” Daenerys speaks with determination as Enyo gives her a wicked grin. 

“Now you are speaking my language lets beat all the way down to hell” Dangerous purple flame flicker in her stare. 

Tonight, Vaes Dothrak was going to burn. 


	32. The Stallion And His Filly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it took a while but actions is finally here and it is going to keep coming.

Aegon VII

The camp was in an utter panic, horses were rearing back neighing with panic as their wild fear-filled eyes forced Aegon to steal. He did not like any of this. They were moving too fast, but he knew that if he did not move fast that they would all be dead in a matter of hours. The thing that he really did not like about all of this was that his pregnant wife would be left without a blood rider. The thought sickened him as panic filled his chest.

But he knew that all this had to move quick and fast, he stalked through the hall of the marble manse. The loud slamming of boots and the clattering of steel could be heard as the shocked whisper of Dothraki filled the air. The news about him being the stallion that sounded the world shook all the camp including his own horde. All 20,000 of them were staring at him as if his wraith could change the world.

He took in a heavy breath as he heard the yelling in the common tongue mixed with confused high Valyrian, Aegon knew the thick husky voice for his aunt and his cousin as well as the sweet yet hoarse voice of his own exhausted mother.

 _“They are talking about what their next move should be_.” The rustic voice of Helios flooded Aegon’s mind.

When Aegon looked down at the cool white marble ground to see that there was a lion with smooth white fur radiant like snow. Deep brown eyes were wide and with this cunning as his whiskers wrinkled as he stared deeply into his bonded wargs eyes. There was an understanding passing between them as Aegon quickened his steps, rage filling his body.

“Who are they to talk about the next moves without me?” Aegon spoke in a warm voice filled with fury

Usually, he had better control of his temper then this but between the anxiety that was swirling in his mind and the cold sinking terror that his child would die in the blaze of glory that was just about to happen it way too much for him to bear his body began to stiffen as his whole body felt alive with a new kind of power.

“ _If a lion in my pride stepped out of line, I would put them down hard,_ ” Helios spoke in a cold voice.

Aegon let out a heavy breath as he dropped to one knee running his fingers along his wild blond mane, tipping his head against the lions as he forced himself to take in a few deep breaths. Doing his best to ease his rage as he slipped into the lion's mind, taking in every moment that he spent while they were in the city. He showed the outskirts of the city noticing the scouting parties that had their brown drawn and ready to kill the Targaryen the moment that they got out of the city bounds.

That was if the real assassin that was in the city did not kill them first. His body was found so tightly that he thought that his muscles were going to burst apart as the fibers turned to shred meat. Taking in a steady breath he let his mind clear as he spoke in a heavy guilt-ridden voice like this was somehow this was his fault. But he had to kill Drogo or else Dany would never be free and he would not regret that choice.

The smooth silky fur ran against his forehead as his fingers tangled in the wild mane of Helios as if every touch of the lion calmed him down.

“They are my family. I cannot simply put them down, but I will let them know that just because I am 14 does not mean that I am going to let them run my affairs. I will deal with them in a more civilized way. I am going in now where Ares is?” Aegon spoke in a cool tone.

He pulled away from the smooth head of the thick lion letting his finger scratched behind the massive beast ear as the husky voice echoed in his mind.

“ _In the room watching everything that they are doing, making sure that he doesn't miss a thing so that he could report back to you and the girls. Nala is with Enyo now she is getting prepared for battle pulling her best armor on_.” Helios spoke into his mind.

He leered at the door that he knew would lead to the arguing and sadly he had to deal with it. He began to make his way down the hall, his mind rushing and filled with panic and worry filling his chest. He knew that Balerion and Arrax would never let anything happen to Dany but that did not make him feel any better.

When Aegon made his way into the room he found his father rubbing his brow wearily as a pounding started to form behind his right temple. His eyes were darkening and showed a slight hint of anger as he looked over to his wife and good sister. Both were locked in a heated debate about what Aegon did not know.

Ser Jorah was leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest as his leg pressed firmly against the wall. His eyes were scanning the table, all the Dothraki that were loyal only to Aegon and his wives were gone. He knew that they were making a play against him, but he did not like it one bit. He loved Arthur, Jonothor, and Whent but they were not his men, they were his father, and they would always be his father.

“What is the meaning of this?” Aegon roared with command and power.

He turned to look at Ares as he was resting on a large table that held no image the room was bare, Aegon doubted that Drogo ever held a war council here. So, the room was bare having only a large oak round table and 12 seats. Most of which were empty, but the dark gray eyes of Dacey locked on Aegon.

“You are moving too quickly. There are 50,000 Dothraki at their back. You have only 20,000, children should stay in their place and leave the planning to the adults.” Dacey spoke with rage in her voice.

Aegon noticed that Lyra was in fact missing as well as Dany and Enyo, the thought that they were controlling them based on age. The thought was sickening because adults were so well adjusted and never made mistakes.

“Adults?” Aegon let out a bitter laugh as he leered at Dacey.

Ares let out a roar in fury as he snapped up. He was growing faster; he would be the size of a horse in a few weeks, maybe even a few weeks. His fire was the same dazzling color as his scales as he leered at Dacey feeding off the rage of Aegon.

“Adults!!! Adults do not make good decisions. I love my parents, but their decision is the reason I am here with permanent marks on my body from men that were sent to kill me. By your good brother's best friend. My sister nearly got rape and our lives had been nothing more than one tragedy after the other. Adults have been ruling for a while look how well that worked out.” Aegon spoke with conviction and outrage flooded his chest.

How dare they assume anything about him!! That he was unfit to lead because he was 14, he would be a man grown in a few months right around the same time that his son would be born. He was old enough to get married, and old enough to have children but not old enough to rule. Dacey on the other hand looked outraged and her eyes began to bug out of her skull.

She shifted to look at the outrage on her face as she turned to look at Dacey, her fingers clenched to a tight fist as she is small but snarled at his mother which only filled him with even more rage. How dare she look to his mother like she is at fault for his words.

“Is this what you teach you, son, in the north, we respect our elders!!” Dacey assaulted Lyanna with her harsh words.

But when she looked to Aegon she knew that she had to choose the wrong words, he was brimming with rage as Helios burst through the door, his thick black lips curling over his sharp teeth. Furious earth-shattering roars echoed in the air as he all but lunged at Dacey.

“In the North, you all stood idly by while my siblings with murder my good mother slaughtered, my family put to the sword and all that we had worked for was burned down to the ground and replaced with the Baratheon’s. In the North, I would be killed for simply existing because I am proof that they were wrong that they were the bad guys in all of this. You northern people say that you are different from the southerners in that you have pride and honor but when all is said and done you are all men and men are fallible but I'm a dragon and a wolf will not tell me what to do. Leave, stay, I don't care, but if you stay it will be as my subject, not my equal I will not have you question every decision I make because you feel entitled because of your age. We are leaving in a few moments the minutes. Come, or stay I really don't care just stay out of my way” Aegon spoke in a cruel voice.

He might have said more but he forced his rage back down as the soft creaking of a door forced him to snap his head back. He could see Daenerys dressed in a painted silver leather vest with horsehair pants and riding boots. While Enyo who stood firmly next to her had on lightweight boiled leather armor with a roaring three-headed dragon.

Aegon knew that Meleys was running about planning next moves after they got the hordes to side with them. She was good like that. But now he was more concerned about the battle to come. The streets would be flooded with the night garden and markets in full bloom. They had to get to the Khals and quickly they did not have time debating all of this.

“Rakharo is back, the men have been gathered, even now Jhogo is gathering the women and children as well as hate fighting men. They are awaiting your address. The dragons are young, their scales are still thin if we bring them with us and they get a few lucky shots off. In such a crown area heavily dense and thick. They could get hurt. It's easier to avoid an arrow in an open plain compared to a crowded place.” Daenerys spoke with worry in her voice.

Aegon noticed the blade that was on her hip as he let out a heavy breath before nodding his head.

“I know we will have to leave them here Nala and Helios as well we can't risk losing any of them not right now. Not for five men. We will travel on foot. It might take a little longer, but it will be easier for us to hide. Gather your hoods we are leaving.” Aegon spoke before turning back to look at his father.

Aegon knew that his father would not dare stand in his way, he had trained his son personally, so he knew that he was more than capable of leading. He was hesitant at first but after watching him soundly defeat Khal Drogo and then yet another Khal early in the day he knew that his son would be able to handle this. The only question is could everyone else handle taking orders from a child?

Rhaegar rose as did Lyanna neither one of them fearing that their son could lead them into their doom. Aegon nodded his head firmly before she turned to look at Dacey. There was this smug air about him as he jutted his chin out and spoke in a cool voice.

“So are you coming or staying” Aegon spoke with a commanding aurora.

Daring her to stay, Dacey was shocked and not sure how to process this, if her son was still alive he would have been older than Aegon by a year and she would never let him speak to her in such a manner. But this is not her son, and this is not the North. She knew that he made valid points, but she would never tell them that neither was she willing to accept them at least not for now.

“I'm coming.” She nodded her head firmly.

Off to battle, they went.

* * *

The city was flooded with people and the ground approach really did take longer than they would have liked but they were almost there. People were milling around; they had to keep their heads down; they knew that would be easy to see. But now it was getting tiresome they were so close that Aegon could taste it.

But there was this pressure that was building in the air he knew it, and he was not the only one, he looked over to his father he nodded his head firmly like he could see it as well. There was something going on and it was not until they started to get closer to the building that he notices the men that were rushing at him.

He knew in a moment that all hell would break loose. It was only when he locked eyes with Rakharo did the crowded abruptly into a panic, there was a murderous snarl leaving the lips of men mocha-colored men as they lurched forward stealing glimmering into the moonlight.

Aegon and his party over quickly their blades shinning, as black and red aura from Blackfyre and Darksister as Lyanna, knocked her bow back though she did not have room and had to go for her hunting knife in her boot.

Blood erupted as fury filled Aegon’s body with power and as he rushed through the crowd drenched in blood as he began to hack and slash. Blood erupted all around them as the wild roars of people filled the air. People were rushing against Aegon shoving and pushing with terror in their eyes.

Lyanna’s thick brown curls were whipping back and forth as she slashed and hacked at men around her slamming her elbow into the stomachs of men as he sliced the throat of anyone that was nearby.

Enyo was fighting just as hard as she danced across the backs of dead men, her eyes alive with power even though they were trapped between a whole bunch of men she didn't seem to care she was enthralled by the death that clung to the air.

Daenerys was slashing and hacking carefully moving around the people so that they would not hit her swallowing stomach. Aegon knew that only one of them could make it out of the crowd then it had to be her.

Aegon slammed his shoulder against the men as Enyo followed his lead knowing that he wanted the same thing as her, the Khals dead and their child protected. They both kept shoulder checking the men as Aegon called over his shoulder.

“Daenerys run makes them pay!!” Aegon roared with persecuted rage.

Daenerys did not want to leave Aegon as he looked over to Enyo begging her for help that she gave with ease.

“Daenerys, you want the Dothraki to treat you like a warrior, act like it. Sometimes you must step over the backs of both allies and enemies! Get in there and burn them!!” Enyo roared with fury.

Desperation flooded her, but she knew that she had to run to save their lives the moment that their Khals were dead then they would lose the will to fight. She was not going to let anyone that she loves to die ever again. Her son would not grow up without a father and she would not allow it.

* * *

Daenerys VII

Her body felt heavy yet alive, a maternal need to make it through this to make it to the Khals and kill them, it was almost more than she could bear but she knew that if she wanted people to stop treating her like a weak princess then she needs to act like it.

Daenerys watched the battlefield grow alive with chaos. As she steeled her nerves shimmering steel weapons, and arkah, a hate-filled fire filled her chest as she felt a need for vengeance flooding her body.

Pouring all of her strength into her feet as she launched herself into the air her arm darted out into the air as she plunged her blade deep into the eyes of a young boy ignoring his guttural screams were cut off, Daenerys could see the light leaving his eyes.

Her mind went blank after that there was only one purpose running through her mind: getting to the door of the large meeting hall. She slashed and hacked, cutting down the men that loomed before her. A red haze of hate kept her moving as her limbs grew heavy, but her mind cleared. Her legs felt like pudding and she had a backache from both the pregnancy and the fighting.

But she had made it to the door and when she flung the door open, she slammed it quickly behind her, her figures tumbling over a massive bar that she forced shut onto the door. A manic hunger filled her as she felt the cerulean egg in the bag on her back that was all but forgotten at this moment but she could sense that something was wrong like she knew that the time to hatch the egg isn't now. But that did not change what she had to do.

She turned swiftly looking at the men before her, five of them none of them the least bit scared their blood riders were swirling around them as they looked down on her for beginner women. Even though warmth spread through her she needs to be down with this and quickly but as the men leered at her as they spoke she walked about the room taking in the sight of the braziers that were crawling with fire.

There was a warmth rippling over the room as smoke started to cloud up the room but not so much so that they could not see. But Daenerys was starting to get used to smoking after having the dragons for two months.

Daenerys could hear the Khals talking about what they should do with her once they murder her husband and killed her baby. The thought forced a fury to fill her chest whatever apprehension that she had about killing these men were all but gone.

“Don’t you want to know what I think?” She spoke in a polite voice.

Hiding the fury, the best that she could as she stalked into the middle of the room in long purposeful strides. Her shoulder was thrown back as she ignored the warmth of the blood that was littering her clothes. Her body was so rigid that she was worried her body would pop a blood vessel. All the khals raise their heads and stare at Daenerys

The Khal that had been the most vocal of the hate for the foreigner Khal and his wives was Khal Moro.

“You’d rather be sold to slavery? Or maybe you’d like to show Rhalko here what you taste like?” His voice was taunting.

“No. I don’t want either of those things.” Daenerys spoke as she felt the rage of Balerion, even this far from the manse she could feel his power flooding her body.

“We don’t care what you want. This is the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen. You have no voice here unless you are Dosh Khaleen. Which you are not until we decide you are. You were married to Khal Drogo first.” Khal Moro spoke.

He looked over her with cruel eyes as there was this smug air about him that made her wish that she could kill them sooner or later.

“I know where I am. I have been here before. This is where the Dosh Khaleen pronounced my husband the Stallion Who Mounts the World.” A sneer pulled at her lips. Her chin jutted out and hate in her violet eyes.

There was a silence as Daenerys continued to speak as all the men were forced into silence, but they knew even the stallion who mounts the world would and could be killed.

“This is where Aegon promised to take his khalasar west to where the world ends. To ride wooden horses across the Black Salt Sea as no khal has done before. He promised to kill the men in their iron suits and tear down their stone houses. He swore to me before the Mother of Mountains. You will not get in our ways.” Daenerys spoke in a murderous voice.

Khal Moro laughed as he spoke in a cruel voice, “And you were dumb enough to believe him?” All his men began to laugh.

“And here, now, what great matters do the Great Khals discuss? Which little villages you will raid, how many girls you will get to fuck, how many horses you will demand in tribute. You are a small man. None of you are fit to lead the Dothraki. But I am. So, I will. My husband will, my wife will but you will not exist past this room.” Daenerys threatened.

The khals laugh but Daenerys didn't think that it was funny she could hear the battle that was going on in the background she could hear the roar of her husband as he cut down the men before him. She knew that she had to end this and quickly.

“All right. No Dosh Khaleen for you. Instead, we will take turns fucking you. And then we’ll let our bloodriders fuck you….” Khal Moro began to stand convection filling his obstinate eyes, but Daenerys could see the fear that was filling his stare.

“And If there is anything left of you, we’ll give our horses a turn. You crazy cunt. Did you really think we would serve you?” He spits at her feet, but he paid her no mind.

Daenerys smiled sweetly at him the same sweet smile that pulled at Aegon's lips each time that he would threaten Viserys. It was easier to smile than it was to hate the men that stood before her, they would weaken and now they would know how weak he really is.

“You’re not going to serve. You’re going to die.” Her voice was smug as her fingers curled around the iron brazier.

The heat of the scarlet coals was clod against her body as she thrust the braziers the dazzling black and red scarlet coals came flying on the ground. She stalked among the buildings and moved around as her fingers were curling around each brazier right after the other.

The khals cower away from the flame the shrill screams echoed so loudly that they were horses, and the roar of battle came to an end. Daenerys could not see the battle, but she knew that they were all watching the way that their building was swallowed the rafters as bright orange flames were rippling against the ground.

The flame begins to cover the entire temple. The khals run to the door and try to escape, but the door has been barred. Aegon, Enyo, and the rest of their group watched from the bottom of the steps as the temple was burning. The Dothraki people gathered around the burning temple. Daenerys grabs the final fire pit and knocks it in Khal Moro’s direction.

The fire engulfs them, the fire rushed against their skin watching as they began to blacken, and his flesh melted from his bones and stripped his flesh from their skin. The scent of burning flesh and hair filled Daenerys nose. She thought that she might vomit, but a warmth settled in her body as she stared up at the men. Watching all the khals burning as a sickly-sweet smile pulled at her face.

A whisper echoed in her mind.

 _“It is not time yet to hatch me wait till the day that he is born_.” The egg whispered into her mind.

Daenerys watched them as the building came crashing down around them as she walked out of the fire, unharmed and naked. All the Dothraki bowed before her as Aegon was covered in blood orange dripped from his hair as sever limbs litter his body. Enyo was sitting against the steps watching as a woman wrapped a bandage around her leg. Daenerys thought that she was angry with Daenerys for taking too long but she was thrilled as she asked the women if it would have left her an awesome scar.

She could not help but roll her eyes as Aegon rushed over to her, placing a firm and warm hand behind her neck as he smiled at her. But worry and fear were whirling in his mind as he stroked her face longing.

“Is he okay? Are you?” Aegon spoke in a thready and terrifying voice as he stroked her naked stomach.

Daenerys felt love filling her chest as she looked to the men and women before her. Ser Jorah rushed over to her, ripping his cloak off with a loud snapping sound wrapping it protectively over her shoulders as she kissed Aegon.

Pressing her lips sharply against his own the taste of smoke on her tongue as their lips parts she spoke as one hand clutched her robes.

“He is fine. I can feel him kicking with a new kind of fury. '' Daenerys spoke with warmth as the two love birds parted. Daenerys looked over the crowd as she spoke this time more to the crowded than her family.

“Every khal who ever lived chose three bloodriders to fight beside him and guard his way. But I am not a khal and my husband is no ordinary Khal. He is the khal of the stallion to mount the world. We will not choose three bloodriders. I choose you all. I ask your oath, that you will live and die as blood of my blood, riding at my side to keep me safe from harm. Blood of my blood! Blood of my blood! We will ask more of you than any Khal has ever asked of his khalasar! Will you ride the wooden horses across the black salt sea? Will you kill my enemies in their iron suits and tear down their stone houses?” Daenerys roared the man echoed her words

Screaming at their slammed their weapons against the ground and forget all about the Khals that she just killed. Even though the smoke was still rising in the air and a strong gust of wind forced the scent of burning corpses to ripple over the ground. All the blood that had drenched Daenerys' skin was gone the fury of the flames burned it all away.

“Will you give a ride with the stallion who will mount the world!! Are you with me?! Now and always?” Daenerys roared with power and fury the whole crowd roared with them.

Enyo stood up screeching right alongside the men, as she had pride in her eyes as she gave Daenerys a firm nod to say what is next. Aegon and Daenerys were wondering the same thing what is next?

“Qarth?” Both spoke in unison.

They knew that they would be the next stop after all they have all the gold that they would need to get to their next stop. The unsullied.

They would leave for the red waste in the coming days.


	33. What Do We Do Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think, next chapter is Viserys in slavery, rumors flying in the west, and a new baby Targaryen in Qarth. It will be super long so it might take two days. Unless you guys want two separate chapters that come out the same day. Let me know.

Ser Jamie I

The room was tense. After a wedding, you would have thought that there would have been some grand ceremony that they would be fed to and getting drunk as they danced with whores and wives alike.

Instead, this pressure seemed to fill the room as the sun lost its warmth, but the scent of shit wafting from the city streets seemed more intense and assaulting. Ser Jamie’s heart pounded in his chest. He knew that Addam and Tyrion were the least even as they spoke.

Trying to find the man that everyone thought was dead up until almost a full year ago, Jamie had not gotten a single decent night of sleep since then, and the times that he visited Ser Barristan in the black cells, he would do the same thing over and over again.

“You are going to die for what you did” Ser Barristan would then let out a haunting laugh.

Jamie knew that it had nothing to do because he killed Rhaegar's father but everything to do because he never tried to save Rhaenys or Aegon. When the sacking happened, he happily stood by and watched the children that he swore to protect from the slaughter by a monster of a man. Now he knew that they would all reap what they sowed on that day, and they would do so bloody and beaten.

It was hard to keep his mind off of the Targaryens, especially lately it had been easy since none of the spies could see Rhaegar, and now they had no choice but to tell the wardens in the hopes that they might find something out.

They had been shoring up a defense and preparing their fleets; they knew that naval warfare would be just as crucial as Land warfare. After all, they would be able to get around quicker. Ships do not get tired; they do not need food; they just need a steady hand to guide them and winds to push them.

Jamie let out a heavy sigh as he looked at his red face king; he had to admit that Robert was a step up from the mad king, but even then, it was a low step. Hate and disgust flared in his chest as he thought about how his sister has been treated all these years, all for power and stature. But he finally always made his wish to be close to her, even if that meant that he would never be heir to Casterly rock.

Ned sat mute, and still next to his king, his teeth were grazing his lips as turmoil seemed to flood his stormy gray eyes that were darkening to almost black color. His body was rigid like he initiated a fight, and something was off about him; he was not angry or worried. He was just there as if his mind was somewhere else. His white dire wolf Ghost was watching everything; one they did, his critical red gaze burning with fury when it looked with Jamie.

For some strange reason, he could not understand, a shudder rushed down his spine as a sense of paranoia ran over him as if someone was watching him, and they were working for information. Jamie's first thought was to look to Varys. It was strange that the moment that it found out about the Targaryen prince that escaped justice almost 15 years ago was alive, his spies did not seem to find a damn thing.

Jamie might not have been a scholar, but he could sense the tension and be skilled in war matters. He knew that there must be something going on. But he did not have time to voice his opinions as the wardens came into the room one by one, each one of them taking a seat either next to Robert or next to Ned. The first one to enter was none other than his father; the stoic and cold man walked into the room as if he had no idea what this meeting was about, but Jamie knew better.

Tywin is a tall, slender, broad-shouldered man in his fifties. His arms are thin but muscled. Tywin has kept his head shaved ever since his golden hair started going bald, but he grows out bushy golden side-whiskers. Tywin has pale green eyes flecked with gold that locked on his son only for a moment before turning to look at the king.

Tywin is a calculating, intelligent, politically astute, ruthless, and controlling man. He dedicates his life and efforts towards maintaining the Lannisters' prestige and ensuring House Lannister is respected or at least feared. But now he was the one consumed with fear, afraid of what might happen if the Targaryens made it back to shore.

Though ruthless, Tywin Lannister is an able and intelligent ruler who brought great prosperity during his tenure as the King's Hand. He is exceptionally talented at the raising of funds, leading to a persistent jest that he must shit gold. But now they would need every inch of that gold to pay for their war.

The next one to walk in was Mace Tyrell. He was a bumbling fool, but his area provided most of the food for the city. They needed his family even if they did not need him, but then again soon, they would be tied to the town by marriage.

Ser Jamie knew about the plans to marry the young lord of the North to the lady of the east. Cersei didn't like it, but she had no say, and her son Tommen was nothing more than a child. It would be a waste, and they would never agree to give their prize flower to a child.

Mace is a handsome and once-powerful-looking man who has since turned fat. He has curly brown hair and cuts his beard, which has white and grey specks in a triangular shape. He is often red-faced. He is a fat blundering fool, but he was the Warden of the east as he sat beside Lord Stark, seeing as how he was a lot less imposing than Lord Tywin.

Lady Catelyn made her way into the room, standing behind her husband; Jamie knew that the only reason that she was here was to bring validity to the claims that the Targaryens killed Jon Arryn. However, Jamie did not see the need for her since her younger sister looked older than her, walked into the room. She had only grown more crazed in the months since the death of her husband.

Lysa has grown thick of body by her early thirties, she is as pale and puffy as Jamie remembers, and she now paints and powders it. While Lysa uses scents to smell sweeter, she cannot completely hide the sour milk smell. She has the blue eyes of House Tully, but they are pale and watery. Lysa has a small, petulant mouth, and her beautiful auburn hair falls thickly down to her waist. There was usually a child clutched to her skirt, but now she had no choice but to walk into the room alone. Little Finger was at her side, a smug smile pulling at his face like he knew that he was the one pulling strings at the Vale.

Her eyes scanned her sister and good brother for a moment before taking a seat at the table next to Lord Tywin, not the least bit worried that she would get a verbal lashing from the man. Both fiery red hair women were silent as the next person to walk into the room was Lord Hoster Tully; it was thought that he was in poor health, but it would seem that the rumors had been greatly overestimated. His son was at his back; each fiery red hair was shimmering in the light as river blue eyes were locked on Robert.

Hoster nodded his head firmly as he took a seat next to Mace, the last of the lord, and probably the most shocking was Lord Greyjoy. He never left his island, so it was incredible to see him here. But Jamie knew that he was not that mad or brave enough to disobey a direct order from his king and his hand.

Balon had always been thin, but now he seemed gaunter with a stern face. He has hard black eyes with long grey hair flecked with white that hangs past the small of his back. He has a stoop in his shoulder.

Balon has a personality to match his people: stubborn, fearless, and quarrelsome. He is uncompromising even when it comes to his own family, and his faith in the Drowned God and the Old Way is absolute. Which made it so hard to believe that he would just come here because his king told him. Doubt wormed its way into his mind as he watched the men for a moment; all the lords, the most powerful ones, were in the room.

Robert looked over each of them as he gave a firm nod to Ned, knowing that he would be lost in rage if he were the one to speak. He would have missed the point entirely, but Ned would be able to stay cold and filled with hate and dispute his bitter hatred for the Starks.

“I'm sure that you were all wondering why we are preparing for war and rising marriages, and there is a simple reason for that. There is a war on the horizon, and it is not from some obstructed lord looking for power but the Targaryens. Rhaegar Targaryens never died, one of his knights was dressed in his armor and was killed. Rhaegar is in the east with his siblings, preparing for war the same way that we are. Notice that the prince of Dorne is not here, that his brother is not here; they sent a bastard to their place. They are coming, and we need to be prepared.” Ned spoke in a billowing and commanding tone

Ned turned to look at Jamie with a firm nod, giving him a cold look; Jamie was forced to go into action, his muscles were stiff, and there was something that just did not sit right with him. But he did as he was ordered and walked out into the hall where a man rested. His once-bright periwinkle blue eyes were dark, his face covered in soot as shit liter his skin that was pale and sickly. The man and a thick bushy white beard rippled down to his chest as he leered at Jamie.

Even now, after being locked in a cell, there was still that fiery determination and venom filling his stare as he leered up at Jamie. The once pale flowing cape and golden armor were all but gone, only a tattered white shirt and deep brown pants that had dirt and hay littering the bottom of his pant legs. But even then, he was the bold and fearless knight that protected women and children and never broke one of his oaths. He was truly a last bold knight but loyal to who?

Ser Barristan was dragged into the room by two of the knight’s Ser Oak heart and Ser Blount. As they dragged Ser Barristan into the whole tension in the air started to make a lot more sense as their eyes snapped over to the man of the hour. Many of them did not understand what was going on, and this was when the fury began to bloom in the eyes of the Warden of the north.

He leered at the knight before him. Hurt and pain fluttered across his face as he spoke; he did so with a bitter and shaking voice.

“Ser Barristan spoke vile lies to my brother, twisting his pain-filled mind to the Targaryens; they are spreading a vicious rumor that my sister is alive and married to Rhaegar Targaryen. He twisted my brother's mind, and he knew this whole time where Rhaegar was and where he would be next. Though he has yet to say a word, that does not matter. The Glover and the Karstark are gone; they went east to where we did not know. But they have been making moves behind our backs for months. My son Robb sent a letter saying he will be moving up here for the marriage to Margery Tyrell; then, they will both go back to the North to prepare for battle." Ned spoke

Turning his attention to Mace Tyrell, the man looked enthused about getting more power, but he was also worried about what his wife and others would say when they found out that they were losing their granddaughter and daughter.

But the North was vast, and if they sent more hands into the North, more of the fields could be cultivated. Their mines were rich, filled with rocks of diamonds, only and steel. They would be thrilled to have the starks in the family line. It wanted to be in the royal line, but this is the next best thing.

They all looked to turn to ser Barristan with newfound hate, but this time Catelyn spoke. She hated the Targaryens, but she pitied Ser Barristan; his only crime was that he was loyal to the wrong man.

"Lysa sent me a letter a few months back, one that stated that Rhaegar sent a spy to poison Jon Arryn," Catelyn spoke.

Looking over to her sister for backup and a split moment, only Ser Barristan and Ser Jamie noticed, but Lysa snapped her head up to little finger looking to him for assurance before turning back to the people at the table.

"It is true with my husband's last breath he told me that the dragon had poisoned him and that Rhaegar had poisoned him." Her voice was grave, but Ser Barristan knew that it was not true, and he was not the only one. Ser Jamie looked over to Lysa.

His shoulders were stiff; he knew that she was mad out of her mind. So, he knew that this could be an illusion that she created in her mind. After Ned looked over to his good sister seeing the same thing that the knights saw, he took in a deep breath, letting himself calm down.

"Ser Barristan, is there anything that you want to say?" Ned questioned sharply

There was a tension that fluttered across the room as all the Lord sat silently in the room not using what they should say or do. They all thought that someone would have died in the battle and that Rhaegar was the one that was dead. But here now they all sat confused, filling their hearts, and forcing them to sink. The only one that was amused was Tywin. He knew all about this and was doing something for the betterment of his family.

Ser Barristan gave each of them a wry smile no longer needing to hide behind false pleasantries and quaint smiles. When he spoke, his voice was gravely and far as this superior air washed over him as he jutted his chin out like he was not covered in dirt and chained down to the ground like a wild animal.

“Fire and blood are coming for you all, kill and you risk their wrath, Roberts fury might be well known but it is nothing compared to the crazed dragon-like fury of the Targaryens. Do not kill me and maybe you avoid the wrath of them. I do not care what happened to me, the prince will come here, and he will end you all. I do not fear for my life but yours. Now take me back to my cell” Ser Barristan’s voice was snug and warm.

He did not fear them he did not even doubt his own words he was so sure in his stance and it was hard for any of them to believe. Ser Jamie looked down at Ser Barristan and a shudder rushed down his spine; he knew that his words rang true. He had seen Rhaegar angry a few times in his life with the prince but when he saw that rage, he never forgot it.

The knights had to pull him off his father when he found out that he had raped his mother, Ser Barristan jutted his chin watching as Robert was stressed in his rage. He sneered at Ser Barristan roaring with fury.

“Get him out of here!!!” He roared with fury.

Ser Jamie nodded his head firmly as he looked over to Blount and Oakheart.

“Take him back to his cell!!” He roared with fury

Fear filled in his stare as he watched Ser Barristan carted off but something nagged him to move forward to go with them but stool still feeling waves of foreboding rushing over him as Ser Barristan gave him a cruel smile. He knew that this would be his last time seeing Ser Barristan even if he did not know it.

* * *

Ser Barristan I

The hall was still and filled with tension there was an overbearing sense of foreboding as the air seemed to be vibrations as if the blood lust were shaking the air molecules. Ser Barristan felt heavy even though he did not have his armor on any longer. It was as if there was a hand resting over them all cherry-picking who was going to leave and who was going to stay.

There were eyes staring at them in the shadows they were sparkling down the staircase inch from a secret passageway that few knew about. Ser Barristan was one of those few people he had served three kings and he would serve more if the gods were willing. His eyes were scanning the darkness within the shadows to start moving. Late last night hid away in his cell he got a letter from an ominous source. He did not know who gave it to him, but the letter was clear.

“Be ready to leave tomorrow” The words enthused and worried him all at the same time.

He had no way of knowing that it was a friend of foe that had sent the letter, but he knew that it was better dying free than it was in living chained. They kept walking listening to the rattling of chains as he looked over to the shadows making sure that there was really something hidden in the shadows, he felt himself searching the shadows.

They were coming up on the secret entrance. He knew that if something did not happen now, he would never get out of these chains. This would be his last time seeing the sunlight. They were mere inches from the door when a soft rattle filled the air.

The soft rattle turned to an echoing cry; blood busted through the air as the shows whirled taking the form of men. Ser Barristan finds himself standing still as Blount and Oakheart back of the legs slice through the chinks of their armors. Both let out guttural grunts, but Ser Barristan was paying them no attention.

His eyes were locked on the lithe man with thick brown curls and smooth gray eyes, Benjen stark?

Confusion sat like lead in his stomach as his mind was whirling as he looked over his shoulder to see Lord Karstark and Lord Glover. Both were standing firm; he had gotten a letter from Benjen that he would try to get the Targaryens to support, but he never thought that he would have gotten support to free the old knight as well. Shock and dismay flooded his mind and his chest as his hands were shaking with anticipation.

“Stabbing us behind is a coward move” Oak heart spoke with hate in his voice.

Benjen gave him a smug smile as a dark glint formed in his eyes, as he loomed over Oakheart pity flashing over his stare, but it was not for the night but for Ser Barristan.

“I leave the honor to my brother, look where that got him on the wrong side of the war and if he is lucky the Targaryens give him mercy. But you will get no such thing.” Benjen spoke in a murderous voice.

As he began to thrust his blade into the neck of Oakheart, watching as his crimson fluid painted his golden armor and cream-colored cape a crimson red. A wet pop left their lips as bright red bubbles began to spill from his lips as his eyes widened as the bright light began to slowly slip away from his stare.

As Lord Karstark struck the chains from Ser Barristan's hands, Lord Glover walked over to Ser Blount, a vindictive smile pulling at his lips as he grinned at the ugly man inside and out. Throwing his sword into his throat the same wet slash filled the air as his blood spilled from his throat as they were collapsing to the ground twitching painfully as their last final breaths left their lips.

“Ser Barristan, we must get going. We are heading east to find my sister. I have one question for you, where would they be going?” Benjen spoke.

As Benjen spoke they were forced to move as they heard the pounding of mailed feet filling his ears as they disappeared into the passageway. The most hair grew thick and heavy as they moved through the darkness moving closer and closer to the ports where a small ship would carry them out into the Northern fleet.

Ser Barristan knew the Targaryens planned to take over the Dothraki hordes; he had not heard from them in a month since he was sent into the cell. But he knew that if he did take the hordes, they would need ships to move faster among the east. It is easier to hide on the sea than it is to ride around in a massive horde.

“To find ships and if they are in the great grass sea the most logical step would be to find a city that has enough ships. But they also do not have the military power needed to topple more powerful cities just yet and even if they have Dothraki hordes there are some places that they will not be able to go. Not if they want to stay out of the eyes of Robert. That leaves the slave states and beyond the red waste. We should start there, knowing Rhaegar he would never employ slave armies so that really only leaves one choice Qarth.” Ser Barristan spoke in such a sure voice that the other could not hope to argue with them.

They kept running in the dark for a few moments not saying in silence just trying to escape they could hear the hell sound of bells ringing as they made it onto their small ship and began to make their way back to Hitler's small fleet that was just outside the reach of the Royal fleet.

“To the east, we will go then we will refuel in one of the free cities and then make our way to Qarth, maybe they will be there, and if not we will go to the slave cities next,” Benjen spoke with cement in his voice.

He would see his wife and his daughter soon and hopefully his sister as well. To the east, they went.

* * *

Tyrion II

He didn't understand why he was here; his father never loved him, let alone like him, and yet here he was standing on Ebonhead the soil was burning in the heat that was threatening to push the man down to the ground. The heat was stifling and laden with moisture as if the air were plucking the moisture from the clouds. There was a dangerous look on the face of Addam as he bent down looking at the heavy hoof prints that were printed into the ground.

His eyes were dark and gloomy, but Tyrion knew that it had nothing to do with the hooves prints nor did they, they were facing towards the direction of the port.

“These prints are old the ground is strangely undisturbed, something is not right, let’s go” Addam spoke in a low voice

He looked over his shoulder to his men that were resting on the horses their stare frozen and filled with panicked energy almost as if they were scared that something might go wrong. As if there is a magical spell that would kill them the moment that they stepped foot on the Targaryen land.

Tyrion thought that was foolish as he rolled his eyes and started to make his way across the ground gripping tightly to his red and gold shirt pulling at the frayed soiled sweat-stained edges. He yanked at the edge wishing that he could get some cool air bristling against his skin as he stared at the massive manse. The smooth white marble was shimmering in the light, he thought that they would have had dragon banners flickering in the wind.

But there was no sign that the Targaryens were seen here, he stalked over the smooth obsidian soil walking onto the smooth marble, the manse was void of any dragon identity. In fact, it was hard to believe that anyone lived here. Tyrion walked into the man the door was pushed open as the hinges let out an eerily screech.

The scent of mold and must fill the air as the dust began to rise off the ground shimmering in the light as Tyrion stalked into the house. The golden light began to flood the room from the open door of the manse. Tyrion stalked about the house looking at every inch of the floor, before making his way down the still and silent hall. At first, he saw nothing that made him think about the Targaryens.

But he came up to a room to the left the door slightly ajar and as he walked into the room, he could see containers long forgotten on the bed. Dust and spider webs forming around the jars, inside was crusted brown paste. The same kind of fine paste that you would expect to see for someone that was hiding their silver or white hair.

Tyrion stalked and walked into the looking around to see that there were papers resting on the table, there was a stack of forms that were bound in leather. They looked to be normal but each time that he got closer he knew that there was something important about those papers. He was all but on top of them the desk taller than Tyrion. His legs were cramping but he forced himself to climb onto the chair and peer down at the letters.

The words were confusing and Tyrion could not understand them, the words made sense in that they were the proper common tongue, but he did not understand them all the same. It was confusing the names they could not be right.

“ _ My prince we have found Daenerys and Viserys who were hidden away at Pentos come quickly. He is trying to force her to marry Khal. I cannot speak much longer. I must try to stop it if I can. Prince Aegon let your father know that we have found them. I have sent him a letter but in case it never reaches him I sent you one as well. -Ser Gerold Hightower.” _

Tyrion's mind raced there was no reason that the manse was empty; they were in Pentos, Ser Barristan must have lied to him. To them all, he was still on the side of the Targaryens this whole time he had been playing them.

“Lord Tyrion?” Addam question.

Tyrion looked to the bed pressed against the wall, as Rhaegar was alive could it be possible that the baby Targaryen that was thought to be dead was also alive. Doubt welled in Tyrion it had to be something else after all he knew is that his father’s men had killed that child even that babe could not have been saved. Skepticism whirled in his mind as he turned back to look at Addam.

“There are plenty of rooms but aside from this one, there are 7 other rooms that were lived in four of them were bare something that you would see with knights of the white order. But the other three rooms were clearly lived in. One was rich with fine silks and jewels, making me think that it was a tongue girls’ room. While the room that was connected to it had weapons, boots, and leather my first thought was a boy but there were also rich silks in there as well some other women who knew how to fight. The final room had two separate wardrobes and that same paste that was resting on the bed beside you. A man and a wife were living in the room. It looks like Rhaegar started a new family with two daughters and one boy. Does that sound like something that you know? Targaryen siblings of three.” Addam spoke in a cool voice.

Tyrion nodded his head as he started to rise from the chair, his legs dangling over the edge of the chair as he dropped to the ground as he looked over to the room giving it one last look over as he nodded his head.

“That seems better than what I was thinking, I found a letter from Ser Gerold. Rhaegar was not the only one that made it out of there alive. The white bull had them come to Pentos. We should head there next” Tyrion’s voice was resolutely strong.

He looked over to Addam who nodded his head and he held out a piece of paper his fingers were gripping so tightly to the paper that threatened it split at any moment. 

“I found this hidden in the story under a set of papers, next to a map of Essos they were planning out how they would get an army.” Addam handed off the paper.

The entire paper was written in high Valyrian and Tyrion’s Valyrian was a bit rusty, but he would pick out one word. The Unsullied.

“The Unsullied? They rest in Astapor. They must be heading there after Pentos, where should we go first?” Tyrion spoke in a low voice.

He was no soldier, and he knew that wherever they went they would end up in a battle and one that they might not be able to win with the little men that they had brought. Not to mention that there were clothes on their way here searching for the Targaryens much like them.

“We will go to Astapor no matter what they will need an army and Pentos could be a dead lead, by now but take all the paperwork that we can get our hands-on. You can study it back on the ship we need to get out of here before Stannis makes it here.” Addam spoke quickly and sharply.

Tyrion could only nod his head, not sure what was going on or the Targaryens next move. Even now he was wondering where they were and who these children are.

* * *

Meleys III

Things were tense the whole city of Vaes Dothrak was alive with down and power as they looked to the dragon Queen one of the mothers of dragons. The heat was stifling but it was something that Meleys had grown used to as she toyed with her smooth pink silks, something that she knew that she couldn't wear the moment that she started to ride again.

As she toyed with her silks, she looked over to Silver Wing who was resting contentedly at her side running her fingers gently along with the dragon's head. The warmth of her skin was a welcome comfort as coldness settled into the room. Her diligent silver eyes were filled with love for the rider before her. She was leaner than the rest of the dragons making Meleys think that she would be the Dreamfyre of their generation.

But at the moment their sweet moment was in the midst of a brutal moment, she looked over to her brother, Enyo was resting contently in his lap her head resting against his chest as her eyes were close as if she was sleeping but Meleys was not fooled, she could see the firm and steady grip on her blade as her leg twitches each time that the heeler touched her.

Her skin was slightly pale from the loss of blood the night before, there was a needle threading her skin as the maiden worked on her skin pulling it tightly as Daenerys stood just a few feet below them. Her chin was jutted out as she leered at a group of men that were held down by her blood riders.

Their eyes were hard and cruel as she looked down at them, the small group of five men had tried to kill the children of the fallen Khals in their sleep. The moment that they tried the men were apprehended. But they could not deal with Aegon; he was not the one that killed the Khal; it was Dany who killed them; she was the one that walked out of the flames giving a speech that captured the attention of all the men.

“We are not in the habit of killing children!! These boys and their mothers committed no crimes, and you would have taken their heads did I or my husband ask that of you” Daenerys screamed in Dothraki. Her shoulders shaking in rage.

Her language skills were getting better as time went on and now no one could tell that she just learned the language a few months ago. Her stomach was growing more round as a fire-filled her. Balerion and Arrax were clinging to the rafters screeching at them men before them.

There was fear filling the men's eyes as they shifted their states to Aegon who wasn't paying them the least bit of attention, he rested his chin on the top of Enyo’s head watching the maiden making sure that she did not muck up his wife's stitches.

“Don't look at him, look at me. I took your Khals life, so I took their hordes as well. I took as many lives as anyone else last night, but I will not kill children or abide by men who kill children.” Daenerys spoke with fry.

Meleys knew that she wanted nothing more than to rest her hand on her stomach but instead, her fingers went to her dagger, dropping down to one knee and gripping tightly the thick oiled black hair of the men in the center. Putting the glimmering point of the blade to his throat, her eyes darkening color until it was black. Her fingers were stark white as she gripped tightly to the leather hilt.

Her body stilled as she leered at the men, the thought of them disgusted her but she knew that she had to make an example of them or else men would keep defying her because she was a woman and they would continue to defer to Aegon unless she did something to stop it.

“Take the other four they were just following him, strip them naked and tie their hands. Let us see how long they can run behind a horse through the great grass sea and the red waste. But him” She leered at him

Mel could see the hate-filled Daenerys; her brows furrowed as she thought about something unpleasant but with a quick hand, she dragged her knife against his skin. Blood sloshed onto the floor with sloosh. The mocha skin was thinning out, turning a pale color as he leered at Daenerys, he tried to move his lips to curse at her, but blood bubbles burst and pop with a wet sound.

Daenerys stood up blood littering her hand and the smooth silks as she shifted her stare to Rakharo, who had pride but shock filled in his stare as he didn't dare to Aegon staring at Daenerys giving her all of his attention.

“Drag his body through the city and when they ask what happened to him, tell them that they disobeyed his Khaleesi order and lost his life. We leave in a day or two to make sure that they are ready to leave.” Daenerys spoke in a final tone.

The men did not bother to say no, they simply dragged the dead body out the room leaving this steady silence as something dark fluttered across the faces of the three Targaryens.

“That speech that you gave Aunt Dacey put her and her northern men in a bad mood. You all but called them savages.” Meleys spoke in an amusing tone letting out a giggle as she started to rise from her seat. Silver Wing letting out an outraged screech as she did so.

She smiled down at the dragon whose blocky head was cocked to the sky asking why she would dare to move from that comfy spot. Aegon tipped his head back, his makeshift throne that rested in the center of the back wall. A bored look on his face as Meleys let her eyes drift to Blackfyre when Aegon came back to the manse his blade was soaked in blood and men were speaking of the dragon queen.

Meleys was almost said that she missed it, Aegon let out a bitter laugh that same rage from last night came back into his stare as if it never left from last night.

“She was trying to turn father and mother against me. I get it to her that we are just children, she did not watch us walk out of the fire, she did not know our skills in battle or all that we had to endure. I cannot fault her for her doubt. But I can't fault her for thinking that because of my age she can walk into my camp and demand things from me.” Aegon spoke in a steel-like voice.

Meleys put her hands up in defense like do not yell at me for this I was just asking a question kind of thing. Daenerys let out a heavy sigh rubbing her brow as she looked over to Aegon who had that same kind of apprehension and exhaustion as her husband. Enyo seemed to be the only one finding any of this amusing.

“Mel is right it was a bit harsh not saying that your words are wrong but if we have northern forces siding with us you can't yell at the wife and leader of not only Bear Island but possibly the entire North. Ned Stark and his family will not side with us. You saw that when he had Ser Barristan arrested and thrown in the cell. We have to be careful here.” Enyo spoke in a singsong voice amused by the whole station.

She might have said more but the door opened, and a group came into the room, each one of them noticed the splatter of blood that pooled on the ground. Then they all looked away but Dacey seemed to have her eyes trained on the blood as Meleys was sure that she saw the dead body being pulled from the room, Meleys wasn't sure what to think of her heart. She did not agree with children taking charge, yet her daughter was as fierce as any man on the battlefield and was the first on the battlefield and the last one to leave.

So, Mel could not understand why she was acting this way when it comes to Aegon and the others. Mel shook her head heavily as she walked over to stand at her brother's side. Daenerys was patting her silks whipping the blood on her hands. Doing her best to clear it up. Helios made his way into the room with Nala at his side.

Both sat before the throne with Toxicana, Balerion and Ares were sitting on the rafters behind the throne watching the elder Targaryens and Starks each one of them was still as he stared back at Aegon as if each one of them wanted to say something but no one knew where to start the blood still startled them even if they didn't want to admit it.

Finally, Dacey bit the bullet and decided to speak first, “Why Qarth with 80,000 Dothraki you could head to the free cities.”

The moment that she spoke Aegon had flashed before his eyes that he hid with an easygoing smile his body began to relax as Daenerys walked over to them. Placid her hand gently on his shoulder as if she could see the tension that was building behind his smile as he spoke in a warm tone.

“The dragons are young and can be killed easy, and with a horde this side it takes more resources to feed them, more space to graze and rest and to keep hidden from the rest of the world, and ships also let us move fast and riches will get us the Dothraki and freeing them gets us the slaves cities, and overwhelming numbers and brute force will get us the rest of the east. Qarth is a hotbed for trade. Thousands of ships go in and out, they have gold. The best option would be to get them to side with us peacefully but if we must burn the city down to the ground that is what we are going to do. Gather supplies we leave in the morning. The journey could kill a few of the men if we aren’t well-rested and with a horde this size we will be moving slow and ships would be the best way to move fast and stay under the radar is by going to Qarth getting support and then gathering the rest of the cities to our side. Hence why we are going to Qarth. Any more questions Aunt Dacey.” Aegon spoke in a warm inviting voice.

There was a warm air about him like he was enjoying watching the way that Dacey's eyebrows shot up in doubt and dismay like he could not understand that he could think this far ahead. She knew that he couldn't be serious about any of this but as he looked over to his parents he could see the pride in their eyes but Meleys rolled her eyes she knew that she helped her brother come up with that plan but the credit didn't matter to her as long as they worked smart.

Tomorrow they would make their way through the red waste and who knows where after that but as long as they were quick, they would be able to hide out from the gaze of Robert and his pet wolf Ned Stark.

Or that was at least her thinking but what she did not know was that Varys was making moves to protect his allies.

* * *

Varys III

He had read the letter a thousand times, but he never thought the words were real even as his vision blurred and for once he felt something akin to true loss and grief. The friend that he knew his whole life, the friend that protected him when he could not protect himself, was now dead. He looked over the words one final time letting his bitter tears stream down his face while he did so.

“ _ Varys I am writing to you with grieving words and a heavy heart. My father was killed by Aegon Targaryen and his head was sent to me at the Golden Company's camp. We rushed back to Pentos, but they were gone. Their message was clear. I only stayed long enough to bury my father when two starks and their men entered the city. We took them but they somehow escaped, though it did not matter. I did my best to follow the Targaryens through the Dothraki sea, but I was forced to cut my losses. The only thing that seemed to be getting me through is that the Dornish spears will be mine if I speak with Doran and win him over to our cause. By the time that you get the letter, I will be on a ship making my way to Dorne in secret. We need them to keep their eyes on the Targaryens for a few more months if possible. Tell them that the Targaryens have taken over the Dothraki hordes 80,000 riders, not including women and children, we heard rumors of the silver hair khal that took over Vaes Dothrak...And another thing, we sent a spy into Vaes Dothrak after they had left and the silver hair queen is pregnant. It was all that we could get out of their broken common tongue. Use that to throw them off the trail _ ”

The words were chilling as he looked over to the darkness thinking about the dead bodies that were cleared off the floor after Barristan escaped a few weeks ago and that still kept them busy but telling them about the Dothraki and the pregnant queen would allow for a bit more lateral movement. Varys took in a deep breath letting his chest expand. He would have to tell them in the morning but now he was going to rest and plot.


	34. Blackfyres and Targaryens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think the next chapter will be up in a little while   
> Maegor and co are not getting dragon eggs don't jump down my throat there is a method to my madness

Oberyn I

The thick heavy scent of Dornish spice-filled his nose as his heart thundered in his chest he couldn't think straight if he wasn't sailing across the west after two long months of sea and causes then he was here finally after such a long time. The men in the great hall were cheering and drinking for the marriage between the Starks and the Baratheons.

They were not cheering because they were happy about it; they were cheering because now they would be able to kill them all in one shot. The thought forced him to sneer; he knew that if they did get the support of Dorne then they would have to employ the tricks from the first conquest. Sneaking around hitting them then disappearing in the wind.

Maegor stood by his right, his shoulder rigid and his chin tilted upwards and jutted out like he owned Sunspear. He knew that it would not take too much convincing to get his brother to side with Maegor. Not when he hears that Rhaegar had this full happy life while their sister was dead, now he is gathering force in the east to come after all of them in the east.

His uncle died because of Rhaegar, his sister died because of him, his niece and nephew died for him, he was tired of Martell dying for them. A sneer pulled at his lips as he thought about the very man that led them down this path. Jon was not allowed to come to the meeting; they all knew that there was no way that they would be able to talk openly or freely if he was there.

Oberyn knew that Doran didn't want to fully commit; he might not even after he saw the boy from himself but he was passable and they would only need the plot of Targaryen until after they took over the kingdom. It did not matter that the kingdoms were united and conquered under a lie if they were truly united.

Oberyn turns to look at Jon. He is the lord of Griffin roost and a close friend to Rhaegar; he only helped prove the lie. But that did not mean that he would be allowed in the room he would have to stand outside or even in the great hall would be better. Oberyn looked down the winding hall where he saw Hotah his ax held tightly to his body as Arianne smiled gently.

“Lord Jon join the rest of the men in the great hall, take about what they think in the rest of the realm, see which kingdoms are the weakest and which one of them we should take over first,” Maegor spoke in a cool voice.

His deep blue almost violet eyes were locked on Jon the man looked over Maegor, the words that the young Stark girl told Jon were stuck in his head. No matter how many times that he denied it he would only ever think about it. When he closed his eyes at night when he first woke up in the morning when he was in the silent forests of the east and the rushing waves of the sea.

There was always going to be a small part of him that wonder. Was he really Aegon Targaryen? At first, it was just a small part of him but the moment that Aegon did something like dismiss him when he should have been there. This was one of those moments as Jon looked at Maegor that small voice echoed back in his mind that he was not really Aegon, but he fought that voice off as he spoke.

“Are you sure my prince would be best for me to stay at your side? They might doubt your legitimate succession, having me at your side to show the prince of Dorne that he is making the right choices by supporting you.” Jon spoke in a sure voice.

Oberyn is new that he was no fool as he stared at the man a pitying look might have a form on his face as he leered at the crimson hair man. Oberyn looked over to see that Maegor's right brow was twitching like he was trying to fight against the hatred that was letting them bubble to the surface. Oberyn thought that it might come out in an explosive rant, but the loud panic slapping of feet and heavy panting filled the air forcing Oberyn to snap his head over his shoulders.

Well, he and the rest of the men in their ground turned to look at the source of this panting and slapping of feet.

Nymeria, his daughter was twenty-five years old, slim, and slender as a willow, with straight black hair worn in a long braid which pulls back from a widow's peak the same peak as her father. She has dark eyes that are large and lustrous.

Her full lips are wine red and curve in a silken smile, and she has high cheekbones, her olive skin shimmering with sweat that layered every inch of her skin. Nymeria has all the beauty that her elder sister Obara Sand lacks but is no less deadly. Although elegant, Nym is vengeful; her father has seen that more than a few times. She still recalls playing with her younger cousin and the boy she felt when Aegon was born. She would never forgive the Targaryens for letting them die or the Baratheons and Lannisters for killing them.

Nym at one point was dressed gracefully in shimmering lilac robes with a silk cape of cream and copper, but now they were laden with sweat and sand as her chest was heaving in and out. The moment that she looked at Jon the urgency in her eyes fell away and an easy-going style pulled at her lips as she lied with ease and skill.

“Father I heard that you were back, but I could not believe it until I saw it.” Her lips quirked into a sweet smile.

But Oberyn knew when his daughter was lying, and he knew that whatever had her sweating and panting like a banshee he knew that it had something to do with the capital. He was aware that his daughter was sent into the snake den and he was not the least bit worried about that but what she would learn. While Oberyn loved his sister, he knew that she was weak, and he would not let what happened to her happen to any of their daughters.

“Yes, we just came back, Hotah why don't you take Lord Jon to the great hall to get him something to drink and some information in the west,” Oberyn spoke in a cool voice.

The tension in the air grew thicker, as he looked over to the crimson hair man, the look on his face said it all and he knew that Jon was going to be a problem but he was the key to winning portions of the Stormlands that did side with Rhaegar or at the very least-loved Jon enough to side with him.

Hotah, on the other hand, did not so much as look at the boy he walked off forcing Jon to go off after him. They simply watched him as the massive double doors started to creak open and they turned to look at Doran and his children that were resting in the room.

There was Arianne standing against the window leaning against it as Oberyn watched the way that he studies the face of his false cousin. Her high cheekbones and loving smile force warmth to fill Oberyn’s heart though the thought that Maegor was making a move on his niece disgusted him.

All a sudden he did not approve of her sheer dress that left nothing to the imagination it made him think that she teased men far too much as if she were asking them to ravage her. She was sweet and smart, but she was no warrior and was likely to get raped or murder if she was not careful. From the lustful look in Maegor's eyes as they began to sparkle and grow lighter in color as a charming smile pulled at his lips. Oberyn knew that worry was starting to grow more valid.

“Uncle ...cousin?” Arianne spoke.

Peering over their shoulder like she expected someone that Oberyn assumed was going to Jon that she was looking for.

“He is gone and Maegor works fine with me, princess Arianne. Prince Doran, Prince Quentyn.” Maegor nodded his head firmly.

They were hit by the sweet scent of milk of the poppy as Oberyn's elder brothers’ joints seemed to be aching even more than usual. His joints were sallow, bright red, and puffy with irritation. Slowly he sipped a thick chalky white fluid as Quentyn sat at his side like a stone statue as he stared out the window.

Not even so much as looking at the false prince Maegor, his eyes were drawn on something in the distance. As if he were peering into the future as if he could see all and knew it. It was more of an irritation to Maegor, but he did not so much as say a word. None of them did, their eyes were not drawn onto Maegor but Nym. They all knew where she was, and she was the most important now.

“Nymeria you brought word from the capital?” Arianne questioned sweetly as she moved to her father’s side placing a hand gently on his shoulder. As if her touch could shake away some of his pain.

Nymeria looked over to her father giving him a small smile as she nodded her head bowing before her lord and uncle before speaking in a rushed voice.

“The marriage between the Baratheons and the starks went off without a hitch and afterward all the wardens were brought to the small council room where they talk about Rhaegar Targaryen and that isn't all Benjen Stark is revolting against the throne, Margery Tyrell is marrying Robb Stark, and Ser Barristan escaped from his black cell into the night. The realm is fracturing with a bit more pressure and they will be more focused on their own problems rather than our movements.” When Nym spoke, a dark sparkle formed in the eyes of Maegor.

“I can attest to that I sent a letter to Varys I will tell you the same thing that I told Varys, Aegon Targaryen got married to Daenerys Targaryen and together took over the great grass sea and she is pregnant it will force Robert to go mad he will throw all his forces at the east to make sure that they can't come here. They united the hordes how long before they got them on ships? We need to move quickly, and this is not ideal, but we must team up. The golden company and Jon are under the impression that I am Aegon Targaryen your nephew. I know that you are outrage for what they did to your family between our two forces and the Stormlands force that we will have more than enough to launch an attack against them.” Maegor’s voice was steady the whole time.

Not letting himself get excited by his words, he sly and loud tone forced all their heads to snap up in surprise as Arianne made her way to the bed. She ran a slow hand along her slender legs as she grinned at Aegon. The lust in his eyes is palpable and it was like he forgot this was here for war does not lust.

Doran seemed lost in thought as he rubbed his chin as a cloud of pain was falling away over his face as he sunk a little further unto his chair as the loud roar of the courtyard could back here from here. Taking one last look at his false nephew he looked over to his brother. The Baratheons had made attempts on their life since he learned the truth and he knew that he could not side with Robert, Rhaegar ran like a coward and didn't take the children could he really side like a man like that. Which leaves one option.

“I admit that he looks like a Targaryen and Jon being at his side make him even more legitimate but if we do that there is no going back. There are no switching sides this is permanent, and we cannot stop until we get justice for our fallen family. Our uncle, our sister, and our niece and nephew. That means that we will have to kill Rhaegar and his children as well. Are you ready for all that comes with it? What will happen to us if we lose? If Dorne loses, we could be razed from existence. All for justice.” Doran’s voice was grave but firm.

Oberyn was never so sure in his life he would fight for his dead family and if he dies in the process then he will be reunited with them. That is all that he could possibly hope for justice and the sweet relief of death and seeing his family. Doran smiled though Oberyn could see the pain flashing in his brother’s eyes, he knew that he would smile through the pain as he got ready to launch an attack and plan.

“I don't see a problem at all, we are going to sack the Stormlands and take Griffin Roost the Stormlands. Their so-called lord Renly is in the capital and not a true warrior. While we take the Stormlands with the Golden Company you will do hit and run tactics throughout the reach. Steal their rescources to kill their men. Once we gather the Stormlands forces, we will take the reach away from the Northern dogs of the crown. Once we have the Stormlands and the reach forces under our control the other kingdoms will bow, or they will die” Maegor spoke in a cold voice.

Casually he shrugged his shoulders as Arianne and Quentyn both shifted to look at their now false cousin, their eyes flashing over with confusion as they looked at Maegor. He had this dark look on his face as he looked over to the door where there was a sense of unease rushing over the prince as he spoke.

“There is one more thing: the woman that was with me for a few short days was a red priestess. She kept on spouting off some nonsense about the prince that was promised. I did not care about that, but she had one thing that interested me. She had dragon eggs three of them, when the Northern women were freed, she disappeared into the shadows. I remember her saying something like she was from the lands beyond the Asshai. We assume that dragons came from Valyria; it was what we were all taught when Aegon and his sister took over the realm. If there are more eggs in the lands of the asshai. Eggs, a chance to truly rule over the throne is hidden in the east. My blood is purer than Aegon’s or his sisters this time around. If anyone can hatch those eggs it is me, but we don't have time to waste on heading back to the east at least I don't.” Maegor hinted.

There was a tension in the room they all knew that dragons are fire made flesh, and fire is power, that the realm was terrified by and filled with awe all at the same time. But the east is growing more dangerous with each moment. The Targaryens rule over the great grass sea.

How much longer before they rule over the Land of the Asshai and the free cites. But Oberyn looked over to his nephew his true nephew had a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. His thoughts were only with dragon eggs. They were distant relatives of the Targaryen but did this little fool think that he would really be able to tame them.

Maegor maybe but a Dornish boy with only a drop of dragon blood in his body, it is as if he was asking to die. The east is filled with danger and power. If they went for dragon eggs they might come back as nothing but heads to be thrown at the feet of Doran. 

Oberyn knew that it was a foolish thought and he wanted to strangle Maegor for even suggesting it but who knows how many eggs are hiding in the east and how true it is. If Eggs could be used to take back the thrones why not and if they could not be hatched, they are still worth more than gold. Even if they could not hatch them it would be good for payment and sales.

“Father let me go even if they don't hatch one egg can buy you an army, two can buy us a fleet, and three gives us the whole kingdoms or at least half of them including the Crownlands. They see eggs and they will flip over to our side whether they hatch or not. This could be a win for us.” Quentyn spoke in a quicken voice to get his point across.

Arianne on the other hand rolled her eyes as if this was foolish, “Or you come back dead or badly beaten you’re a virgin boy who is as green as the grass against the Dothraki horde you would crumple in the wind you are better off staying here and out of the land of the Asshai. Father eggs are useless a fairy-tail man win wars, not magic tricks. Leave it be” 

There was a silence that past over the room as all three children looked to Doran for some kind of thinking of something when after a few moments he let out a heavy breath, war is expensive, and even if they don't hatch that is still more money in their pocket money that he needed to win this war. But he could not send his son alone and he knew that his daughter was right.

“Ser Gerris, and Ser Archibald will go with you. They are skilled fighters and if there is any luck you won't see any battle and if you do it will be easy to slip in and out of the city with ease if you move in a smaller group. Go to the asshai but if you find nothing comes back do not risk your life for stones.” Doran spoke in a soft voice.

As if raising his voice hurt him, Maegor was least happy he was fighting the urge to sneer as he looked at Doran. He did not want them to stop looking, they would keep looking until he said otherwise. But he was not a king not just yet but when he was, he would throw every rose at them if possible. He would get those eggs no matter who he had to kill.

* * *

Viserys III

The lash was like lightning running through his body, blood trickled down his back first a few trickles then like gushing buckets. Slamming against his paling white skin as massive red scars began to split against his skin as his teeth bit deep into his lips fighting the urge to cry out. He knew that if he did the lashes would only get worse. He should have learned by now after 4 months that he should not talk back.

He always wonders what it was like to have a slave not be to one, the sky was a bit darker as blood splashed against the ground. His fingers ripped into the ground black as night from all the dirt and soil from tailing say in the field. Though this would be his last time in the fields, the lash that whipped against his skin was just more than pain induce torture. It was a way to break him in for his new owner.

Yezzan was thought not to be that bad and he was not but Viserys had to open his big mouth and scream that he was the son of the dragon and would not listen to a fat pig like that. He took more than his fair share of his beatings when he was working in the fields. Each time that the bones snapped they came back stronger than ever. He knew that he should keep his mouth shut and with each time that he was beaten there was a part of him that was stolen away. None of the good but all the bad.

“Enough!! That is enough!! Give him something to eat and a bed to rest in and fit him with a proper collar.

His voice boomed in Viserys ease there was a kindness to his voice that Viserys had not heard in a long time. The moment that he looked up a wave of disgust filled him but as the blood slipped down his back the warmth growing sticky and dry his body shaking with exhaustion and heavy with grief and confusion. Why would his own family do this to them?

He turned back to look at his new master's disgust filling him, but he knew that this man was going to own him possibly for the rest of his life.

Yezzan has yellow eyes, and is so morbidly obese he can no longer stand, he is so large that Viserys thought that he had to be three times the size of Illyrio Mopatis. The very man that lost his head the same way that he lost his freedom to his nephew.

His master is sickly, and cannot hold his water, and so always smells of urine that even perfume cannot hide. He wears yellow silk tokars with gold fringe that Viserys thought was gold not because of dyes but because of all the piss that slipped out of the man.

He is obsessed with grotesques and often purchases slaves with physical deformities to add to his "collection". Viserys knew the only reason that he was picked was because of his lilac eyes and silver hair. He was a rare beauty, his face was not bruised, he might have been an ugly human on the inside, he was pretty on the outside.

If he was not working the fields, he was forced to bed women for the betterment of his owners, the thought of begin worn by anyone is disgusting. Viserys was not the only slave that he owned, Yezzan also owned a boy with hairy, deformed legs resembling a goat's legs, a bearded woman, a feeble-minded two-headed girl from Mantarys, and a hermaphrodite named Sweets. While overweight, he is still shrewd and intelligent, a trait some of the other Wise Masters don't share.

Viserys knew that if he behaved then he would be treated fairly but the same could not be said for his men. A towel was flung against his moist body laden with blood, his eyelids were heavy and everything around him was going black. He could hear the heavy footfalls of Yezzan as he walked off leaving him with the same cruel men that had been beating him.

Viserys felt something stripped away from him each time that he was beaten, a greatest sense of guilt and shame rushed over him as he felt this sensation of cold iron as something pinch over his neck only for a moment before fading away. He could hear the dark chuckles of men as his mind went fuzzy and he could hear the turns of the men as he felt his feet dragging against the ground the scent of dust flooding his nose.

“He is prettier than my wife.” The guttural accent in the common tongue flowed into Viserys here. 

Booming laughter echoed as a second man spoke, Viserys couldn't see anything a thin his head was heavy and his vision black from the blood loss he knew that he wasn't going to die but that didn't stop the burning white-hot pain from rushing through his blood. Threatening to burn his skin off as he struggled to stay conscious.

“Both my sisters too, you know he has been mewling like a little bitch since we started beating him” A second voice huskier fill the air.

The moment that he heard that a cold sense of dread swirl around his mind as a cold hand of trepidation squeezed against his heart as a third voice gravelly and murderous filled the air.

“He isn't a prince; he is no dragon he is just a piece of property. We can do as we please.” The third voice was filled with malicious intent.

There was a tense silence filling the air as Viserys slammed against the ground, his jaw rocked and dust filled his mouth as he was too tired feeling like lead weights, his hands were limp, his mind blank. He could hear the fumbling fingers of men as he felt cold. His clothes were stripped away from him. Snickering filled the air, Viserys wanted nothing more than to stop them but his body would not move. He lost too much blood he could not think clearly, and his eyes were barely open.

He felt firm hands on his hips pulling him back as a sharp pain slammed against his backside a surprise pain-filled yelp left his lips but as his mouth snapped open as he tried to cry out only to hard mocha colored cock shoved so deep down his throat that he gagged. His first thought was to bite down, but a third man gripped tightly to his throat and spoke in a cruel voice echoed in his ears.

“Bite down and lose your teeth '' He laughed as a sharp thrust slammed into Viserys hard and cruel the way that a hound takes a bitch.

Viserys could barely breathe as a cock slammed repeated down his throat and bile filled his mouth. He was gagging as wet slurps filled the air. Terror food his heart chilling him fear forces him to free.

The pumps in both his mouth and his backside were hard and brutal growing more erratic with each passing moment. He wished that it would end but it went on for hours as each man took turns using every hole that they could find. When it was finally over, they left him broken and bruised. Every nerve ending raw as he could barely keep his eyes open. People walked by not saying a word his collar made sure that no one would help him, and he could not blame them.

All he could think about was Aegon, his warm smile and gentle indigo eyes were taunting and cruel. He wanted to scream at the image to blame them for all his problems. But for the first time in the four months that he has been enslaved it finally occurred to him that this was no one’s doing but his own.

He could think about all the times that he raped Doreah the first time she screamed out and cried for hours. But by the third time she knew better to cry than to let alone say no. There were handmaidens of Daenerys, if he could not get Dany then he would get the women around her. They cried out begging him a few even fought him, but he would simply let out this cruel bitter laughter as he kept going. Now he was in the same position and he could not even feel rage for the men or his nephew that sent him here. There was no one to blame but himself.

That did not stop him from growing bitter and filled with hatred but that did not change the fact that he came to the same realization. He could blame his misfortune on himself. That did not mean that his arrogance had left him, or that he was anywhere near humbled to the point that he needed to be.

He regretted his actions but that didn't mean that he was truly changed not yet it would take more suffering than a gang-raped and beatings to learn that the world didn't revolve around him and his royal status. As Viserys lay in the muck on his way to Yunkai, he could not help but think about what his sister and his brother were doing right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maegor and co are not getting dragon eggs don't jump down my throat there is a method to my madeness


	35. Qarth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was supposed to be up 3 days ago so for the way it took longer then expected

Aegon VIII

It has been four months since they had left Vaes Dothrak, the journey through the red waste and been slow and long; many of their horses had died, even more women, children, and cripples alike. The warriors were strong and sure of themselves they did not waver, and it was that convection kept them going past the point of exhaustion. The red sand was taunting them and as they moved their way through the red waste. Aegon was filled to the brim with terror as he looked over to Enyo.

Her breasts were getting larger and after seeing Daenerys becoming pregnant, he knew that she was pregnant as well. Her snow-white hair and silver highlights were pulled into a tight not. Sweat dripped down her back that was cramping and breaking with pain. Her eyes were heavy as black bags rested under her stare.

Aegon tossed a look over his shoulder to see Balerion, the massive black dragon that was now just a bit larger than the horses that they had left. His thick black scales were shimmering in the light baking in the heat, but he did not seem the least bit bothered by any of it.

His smoldering red eyes are filled with joy as well as worry as his shimmering red arms were pressed firmly against the sands his black tail with bright red spikes were ripping apart the red sands as he stood next to a massive cart that held a cool tarp that protected a large and very pregnant Daenerys. Her body aches her feet hurt, and it was like her body was on fire. Her violet eyes were filled with a power unknown to others but that did not change the fact that she could not take much longer of this.

Aegon was starting to think that going through the red waste was the worst thing that they could have done. Aegon looked over to Ares. The bright red dragon was larger than his red stallion with a wingspan of 80 feet and a long coiling neck that had to be at least 30 feet long. His head began to grow larger as it thin out and his horns grew sharper. He was daring through the air, his bright eyes scanning the horizon. But Aegon was not looking at him.

His mind began to slip from his body as his shoulder slump and his mind went blank before transporting him somewhere else. He was laden not with sweat but fur as he looked down to see that his hands were gone and his claws glimmered the color of white gold fur stared back at him as he darted through a dead city.

Here the air was cool and moist as shadows befell them, Nala was stalking off to the side nodding her head firmly like she knew that Aegon was in her mates’ mind. Their young cub had grown a bit larger as tuffets of blond fur started to come in as his mane started to grow with his growing size.

The city has large white walls encircling it, though they are cracked and crumbling. There are also wall towers. The city gates are broken but there were shadows and right now that is what they needed. He could see shadows and safety so that is where they are going to go. He slipped out of Helios' mind looking over to Enyo with relief fluttering across his face.

“There is a city dead one but good enough we can rest there, for now, Rakharo, Aggo, Jhogo each of you take one of the fast horses and see what there is to see. Qarth is here somewhere,” Aegon spoke in a cold voice.

He looked over to his blood riders knowing that the last thing that they did was leave after all he was their khal and the two pregnant women were their Khaleesi. But he was not afraid after all there were six dragons that would kill anyone that got too close to them. Eragon was flying over his mother whose deep gray eyes were exhausted.

Toxicana much like Balerion didn't dare take to the sky not when her rider was exhausted, her arms were pressing against the ground pushing her forward as her venomous green eyes were locked on the distance as if she could see into the mind of Nala the same way that her riders do.

Silverwing was dancing in the sky like the depressing atmosphere of the red waste meant nothing to her. Mel had a weak smile on her face as she sat with her good sister and her aunt. A gentle smile pulling at her lips as she ran her finger through the sweat damped hair as her breath quickened.

Mel did not dare tell her brother that Daenerys was in the middle of labor pains, they would be in this city in a few moments, maybe even an hour. They could only hope that Dany could hold off until then. She knew that there was a lot on his mind.

He was the one that wanted to go into the red waste. It was the easy way to do it without moving about one free city to the other until he eventually got to Qarth. There was too much at risk if they went into the free city, he was trying to avoid eyes not gaining more of them.

This was the best way to do that but the moment that they got Astapor there would be no more hiding in plain sight they just had to get to Astapor and after that everything would change. Aegon did not sense the change in the air or the pressure that was building under the surface of the horde.

No one doubted his right to lead or the right of his wives to lead. They doubt his choice to take them here. Of all places that death clung to it was the red waste that was a death sentence for all that walked across the sands. Now that was proven more than ever as they looked to the very city that was standing before them.

Aegon took in the sight of the city not as a lion but as Helios and Nala rushed out of the shadows watching as the horde came. Many were hesitant they did not want to go into a dead city, but it was either die out here or live there. Aegon turned to look at his horde exhausted and broken down by the death of children and wives.

"I know that it has been trying times and I know that this has not been easy for any of you, but this city is our salvation. You can stay out here, or you can die out here." Aegon spoke in a cold voice.

He did not speak the threat, but Arrax and Silverwing were flanking Aegon, Ares ready to burn any that defied Aegon. He let out a heavy breath as he leered at the city. He did not like the sight of it, but he knew that he had no choice. He would not die here, and his wives would not die here.

He looked at the ghostly city that his lions found, the city has large white walls encircling it, though they are cracked and crumbling. There are also wall towers. The city gates are broken so it was easy for him to walk in, he kicked the side of his stallion gently forcing the beast into the broken-down gate slowly and carefully making his way through the city.

The city is a maze of narrow, crooked alleys. The buildings are built close together, their façades blank and chalky. All buildings are windowless. Some of the houses have long fallen into rubble, and other buildings seem damaged by fire. The remnants of a gutted palace stand before a windswept plaza. Devilgrass grows between the paving stones sprouting up like weeds in the darkness.

A marble plinth stands at the crossroads between six alleys, but no statue stands on it. The Dothraki are presumed to have visited the city, taking its statues to Vaes Dothrak. It made Aegon wonder if they made it back to Vaes Dothrak alive then they should be able to make their way to Qarth.

The city has vegetation. There are grapevines, fig-trees, peach trees, and other fruit trees in the abandoned gardens, hidden behind closed doors. There is enough grass to sustain a small herd of horses. Its wells contain pure and cold water. There are also small animals in the city, most notably flies and red scorpions.

“Ser Jorah gathers a few hunters to forage the berries, and hunt down the scorpion even the slightest bit of meat will help,” Aegon spoke in a cold voice.

His own mind was weary, and he found it harder and harder to think straight but the coolness of the shadows helped to ease some of the tension that cracked his shoulders. He was fighting the urge to collapse from sheer exhaustion, Ser Jorah waisted not time his armor all but forgotten he knew that it would take more energy than it was worth. Ser Arthur, Ser Jonothor, and Ser Oswell, all did the same but Aegon knew that there was no way that he was happy with that.

But they did the same thing, the moment that he looked over the city he could see that there were remnants of the former life that lived in the city. There are remnants of the previous inhabitants in the city: the skulls of the unburied dead, bleached and broken. The twisty alleys contain old bronze coins, bits of purple glass, stone flagons with handles carved like snakes.

“Find a place to rest and set up the Khaleesi's tents quickly….” Before Aegon could finish his orders, they rushed about to set up the camp.

Aegon descended from his horse moving into the remnants of the city with only Helios at his side and Ares flying overhead. The common red-scaled dragon was keeping a full eye on his rider. Aegon didn't like the bleak empty space of the red waist but Ares seemed to be thriving in it; he had never been more alive; he had spent his days flying through the sky venturing higher and higher into the sky. He was growing bolder and he was growing faster by the day. It was hard to believe in 4 months he was larger than a horse. Though he knew that it would be quite some time that he would be able to hold himself up with Aegon’s weight.

Taking in a deep breath his chest began to expand as he closed his eyes he could see a glimpse of a city flashing before his eyes filled to the brim with people as they talked and shopped without a care in the world. They were alive and happy dressed in Qarth fashion. When he opened his eyes only darkness rested before him. There was nothing more than a steady silence that rushed over the fallen city.

He walked down the fallen streets as the shadows cooled his mind and his heart. He was so ready to collapse in his tent and not wake up for a few days. It was a long journey, and he was just ready to collapse. His mind was numb, and he could not help but think about Viserys in times of silence, where he was. What kind of horrors did he go through as a slave? He knew that he earned every bit of his punishment, he thought that he was above the laws of mortal man and common decency now he could learn what it was like to be at the mercy of the cruel. Even for a few months or a few years.

“Aegon!!” Lyanna roared with excitement.

When Aegon snapped his head over his shoulder he could see excitement flush against his mother sweat laden skin his eyes were glimmering all but shimmering in the light as her curls were whipping around him slapping against her face as she gripped tightly to his silks. Lifting her pants that were a bit too long.

“It's Daenerys she is in labor.” It was all that Lyanna said.

She could not contain her excitement she was finally going to meet her grandson, her first grandchild and if given the chance she would spoil him rotten give him all the love that she could be hoping that he didn't turn out like Viserys. Aegon felt a surge of fatherly pride as well as fear they had no real maester he was scared that she would not make it out of the birthing bed

His feet and his pulse quickened as his hands grew clammy and for the first time in a while, he felt something akin to true fear. The dragons all began to screech at the same time as the two starks rushed through the dead city hoping to find their way back to the camp that Aegon did not even see them set up.

Ares screeches were the loud as 6 different colored flames went shooting through the sky mixing into a rainbow-like inferno which only made Aegon panic just a bit more as he's moved through the sand but it felt like he was getting neither. By the time that he had gotten to the camp, men of the Dothraki were standing around in anticipation ready to see baby Rhaego.

Aegon's tongue felt awkward in his mouth as he noticed his father off to the side, a warm smile on his face and a proud like look filling his eyes as he nodded his head firmly over to the tent as if telling him that he better man up and get into that tent. Enyo and Meleys were both standing off to the side not daring to go inside, Aegon did not have time to wonder why they were out here.

He rushed into the tent listening to the sound of a scream that was shrill but came to an end as Aegon got into the tent looking at the sweat-dampened hair of his wife as she let out a relieved sigh. Not because Aegon was here but because of the painful labor as Irri pulled a babe from her body, robust and healthy babysitting in the women's arms.

He had pale white skin and afterbirth littering his body but Irri carefully cleaned off the babe his eyes were dark violet eyes the same as his mother with molten silver hair coming out in tuffets. He had his father’s long face and the look of the North about him, but he still had the Ethereal beauty to him. He looked strong and filled with life as he waited at the top of his lungs.

Aegon felt respite as he rushed over to his wife's side running his fingers gently in her hair, the moisture-damped hair was cool against his charring fingers. His heart was slowing down with each tender moment that passed between them, she placed a gently clammy against his cheek.

“I am fine, my love truly. Where is Rhaego?” Dany spoke in a tender voice.

The moment that she spoke their attention turned to their newborn son. His wide violet eyes were locked on his parents as he ogled them as if saying what are you waiting for. He let out an outraged screech as his fat little fist slammed against the air screaming to pay me attention.

Chuckling gently Daenerys held her arms out ready to receive her child, Aegon moved to the right as the women went about the tent cleaning out the blankets and swapping the sheets out as Irri brought Rhaego over to his mother.

Aegon could not help the warm tendrils of pride that rushed from his chest to his limbs and then his legs. He felt lightheaded for a new kind of reason, his mind could barely work right as he grinned.

He dropped down to one knee no longer feeling like a 14-year-old boy pretending to be a Khal but a father and a leader. His fingers were twirling with love as both enjoyed the moment letting themselves be something more than exhausted half-starved leaders. But they knew that the warm and loving moment would not last.

* * *

It started off as a soft pecking like a bird slamming their beak against a tree, but then there were sharp cracks like an egg begin drop on the ground, even still Aegon and Dany didn't think anything about it. It was only after Rhaego let out a shrill giggle, clapping his hands together forcing them before to wake up.

The baby Rhaego was laying in his crib wide eyes of violet the color of wine growing dark in certain lights locked on a cerulean colored egg that was resting beside him. Sleepy Aegon's eyes began to open as he rested his chin constantly on his wife's shoulder, all three were well rested and had been in the city of bones for a week. No one had heard from the riders, worry was starting to fill all of them.

They did not think that their blood riders would ever come back but as they looked over to the source of the noise. Daenerys let out a heavy sigh as if she had hope that she would get at least one night to sleep all the way through the night. Rhaego had been keeping them up all night long and slept during the day meaning they slept during the day.

Now it was early in the morning and it was the first time that he had slept through the night they thought that they were getting somewhere. Both were ready to let out a heavy sigh by their breath caught in their lungs as they looked to the cause. The cerulean egg that they had with their son every night the egg rested with the young babe. 

The shell was begging to chip easy pieces ripped from the egg dropping to the bottom of the makeshift crib that they had made for the baby. They watched at first a few small pieces of egg fall to the bed of the crib then a clawed foot slammed through the egg. Rhaego was giggling with joy as spit dribbled down his pink lips. His hands were tapping at the egg impatiently as his eyes scanned the egg.

Waiting was not their families strong suit, Aegon's heart boomed in his chest as he looked over to Daenerys who seemed just as shock, for them they thought that they were going to hatch the eggs on their own they thought that they would hatch this fair from Dragonstone something must have changed.

A tension flutters across the room as they watch a deep ocean blue eyes with a reptilian pupil formed in the crack. Both their hearts stop as they watch the egg collapse outward the smallest wingers’ arms slammed against the egg forcing a baby dragon to appear from the wreckage. His body was the color of the egg a smoke cerulean blue his scales looked almost iridescent like they were glowing.

Both could only stare in awe as his tail whipped back and forth with excitement as his wings pressed firmly against his side as his long coiling neck and blocky head looked down at Rhaegar with curious eyes. Almost as if he knew who this boy was and what he would be to him. Soft purrs and excited screeches fill the air as he looks into the eyes of the young prince who has only been alive for a few days.

The two were consumed with joy knowing that their son would always know that dragons existed in this world not once upon a time but in his lifetime. But it made them wonder what changed that made these eggs hatch when so many did not. It was not like they were going to ever get the chance to truly contemplate it not when there were pieces moving

The tent flaps were thrown back as Enyo walked into the tent not once thinking about waiting so Rhaego might have been asleep. Her eyes snapped over to the dragon shocked at what she was seeing but did not know how to even begin to form words. She got a separate tent not being able to stand all the screaming and yelling that Rhaego did during the night. She adores her good son/nephew but that did not mean that she as a pregnant woman wanted to hear someone else child screaming

A warm smile pulled at her lips as she ran a tender finger along Rhaego's face as she looked at the dragon that was all scales and wings. The moment that she had the chance to absorb the knowledge that there were two baby dragons she spoke in a quicken voice.

“Aggo came back from the south all he found was the black poison water, Rakharo found nothing but swirling sand, wind-scoured rocks, and plants with sharp thorns. He claimed that he swore that there were bones of an immense dragon. While exploring one of the forgotten cities, Aggo finds an iron bracelet. The bracelet is set with an uncut fire opal he wanted to present it to you Dany, but you were resting. I would not have bothered to tell you if not for Jhogo he found Qarth there are three messengers awaiting us. Awaiting the two of you.” Enyo spoke in a quickened voice as her fingers were gently caressing the blue dragon.

Love pooled in her stare as Aegon notice Dark Sister resting on her back as he let out a heavy breath the last thing that he wanted to do was get up and meet some people that he might be killing any way but he nodded his head firmly and started to rise from the makeshift bed Daenerys did the same both quickly dressed.

Rhaego was waiting in the crib; they knew they were not going to let the young boy out of their sight so as Daenerys pulled him slightly in her grasp the blue dragon jumped onto her shoulder darting her to tell him no. She could not help the sweet smile that pulled at her lips as they strike out of the tent only to be greeted by the whole horde minute their Targaryen family members.

Their eyes were locked on the next Khal of their horde, the sweet babe was giggling as his little fingers were trying to stroke the dragon that rested just out of his reach. Shock whisper filled the air. They knew that the egg hatched after the birth of their Khal. The Dothraki were a superstitious bunch and as they all dropped onto their knees Aegon and Daenerys followed Enyo to the gate of the city.

Aegon was worried when he didn't see Nala or Helios, but he knew that they must have been at the front gate the same could not be said for his cub who was happily nipping at the strings of Daenerys boots demanding that she put Rhaego down to play. As they walked, he splashed about the sand looking like he wanted to play with the blue dragon that was resting on Dany’s shoulder.

“Did they say what they wanted?” Dany spoke in a sweet but cold voice.

The worry that flared in her eyes forced Balerion to let out a murderous screech as he flew through the sky, Aegon could see the red-scaled Ares was sitting on the wall his silt red eyes were locked on the distance. His black claws ripped through the stone as his arms were pressed firmly against the wall. Since there were no gates it was easy for Aegon and Daenerys to peer out and see who was in the walkway.

The man to the right is a pale man with blue lips, his face was giant, his fingers were gnarled and crooked and they were broken and never healed right. There was this daunting air about him that did not sit right with Aegon.

Something that Helios picked up on as his bonded partners feeling of rage and worry and began to move closer. Stalking as forward his shoulders tense and he let his furious roar as a husky voice filled Aegon’s mind.

"Do you want me to kill him" Helios spoke in a cold voice?

There was a murderous snarl building in the back of Nala's self as she sensed the animosity in the air and was feeding off it. The moment that the man with blue lips saw how the animals reacted to the presence of Aegon.

Daenerys tilted her chin out studying the men and the one woman before her. The bright blue sky was darkened as Balerion let out a murderous roar that would one day shake the earth and the heavens. He slammed into the ground not bothering to play subtle like Ares did he slammed into the ground. Toxicana and Silverwing stalked from the back of the new guest the horse was bucking widely as Eragon and Arrax were standing behind Rhaegar and Meleys who were standing firm.

As Aegon walked further out of the walls, Daenerys pulled her child just a little bit closer to her chest as the blue dragon roared a little bit louder. Forcing all attention on them as Daenerys took in the sight of the women that were in between the two men.

A woman who wears a dark red lacquer wooden mask. Her eyes are visible behind the mask, wet and shiny. She wears a long-hooded robe. She stood firm but the moment that her eyes were locked on Daenerys the moment that she saw the babe and the newborn dragon she could hardly believe what she was seeing. 

None of them were as they watched the way that they strutted into the open clearing both parents exuding power as even their own family who didn't get much time with their grandson who had spent more time screaming for his parents then he did being doted on by his aunts and his grandparents.

Both of whom were shocked to see him out of the tent would have thought that they trusted the Dothraki not to harm him but then they saw the cerulean dragon on their shoulder and knew that something happened that neither of them could explain.

Finally, Aegon and Daenerys together turned their attention to the last person of the trio: man, who is a languid, elegant man, pale and lean. He has a bald head and a great beak of a nose that is encrusted with rubies, opals, and flakes of jade, giving him the aspect of some strange glittery bird. His fingers are long and elegant. He was wearing robes of maroon silk and cloth-of-gold.

He stood firm, the lust in his eyes was not just for the dragons but for Daenerys too, there was suspicious air to them, but they could not stay in this desert and they had plans for Qarth. So, they had to do this even if they did not trust them.

Both were firm as they stood before their guest dark looks fluttering over both of their eyes, there was no easy smile pulling across either one of their faces that is usually preceded by a threat or a mystic message. Instead, it was simply brutally honest.

“What is it that you want?” Daenerys spoke in a cold tone.

There was no need to see three messengers either; they wanted to let them in another city, or they did not. Aegon did not like any of this and Ares and Helios pick up on it. Helios rushed to Aegon’s' side and murderous brown eyes locked on the thin man as if he could just sense that there was something wrong with them. His large head nuzzled Aegon's hand as he ran his fingers through the lion's mane knowing the warmth of his course fur was a better calming agent than gripping his sword at his back.

Ares launched off the wall flying overhead Aegon in a predator circle that somehow had a way of calming him down. 

“Skin Changer” The blue lip man spoke in a lower whisper.

Too low for humans to hear nothing more than a ghosting word on his breath but Helios and Nala heard him so that meant Enyo and Aegon did as well. There was a tension building between the men before them and both Daenerys and this strange woman saw that, so she spoke quickly to 6 dragons alone but a newborn dragon and a newborn dragon lord.

“To see the mother of dragons, and new dragon lords it would seem, we humbly request that you and your husband become guest at Qarth, the Targaryens and Starks are of course welcome in the city and we will of course feed your horde and set up temporary barracks outside the city. We cannot put out 45,000 Dothraki.” The women spoke but it struck Aegon as odd how they could know how many Dothraki they had lost on the way here and how many they had left.

The dangerous wet glint in her eyes made Aegon think that they knew more than they were willing to tell. He did not like this or know what was going on, but he would take Qarth no matter what. To Qarth they went.

* * *

Daenerys VIII

Qarth is surrounded by three thick walls of thirty, forty, and fifty feet in height, respectively engraved with portraits of animals, war, and lovemaking. The triple walls of Qarth are one of the nine wonders made by a man reported in the book, Wonders Made by Man, by Lomas Longstrider. The port of Qarth is one of the greatest in the known world it was one of the few reasons that Daenerys and her brood were here

Aegon was sitting beside her on his stallion, the smooth red stallion was dazzling to Daenerys, Rhaego was resting in the arms of Lyanna a sweet smile was pulled at her lips as she looked down to her grandson cooing at him. All the while he was bursting into giggles as Lyanna’s long brown hair tickled his face and he had first full of her hair. Eragon sat protectively at their side.

There was not a time that Daenerys wouldn't see the gleaming green scales with dazzling bronze highlights sitting next to Lyanna and if he wasn't with Lyanna then he was with Rhaegar he was a mild manner dragon only rising to anger when he had a reason. Taking in a long steady breath Daenerys turned her attention back to Qarth.

The buildings in Qarth are colorful. Decorations include a bronze arch fashioned in the likeness of two snakes mating, their scales delicate flakes of jade, obsidian, and lapis lazuli. Slim towers stand tall, and elaborate fountains fill every square, wrought in the shapes of griffins and dragons and manticores. The balconies of the houses are delicate and frail.

There were people resting on said balconies staring at them as the dragons flew right over the wall as if they were inspecting it first. Helios and Nala were standing just ahead of the pack ready to attack anyone that got too close to them. She didn't like the idea that they had to leave their people out in front of the city gate but the people of Qarth were true to their word, there were massive tents littering the ground 100 feet outside of the wall along with massive barrels with food and water.

“Our blood riders and my wife's handmaids will come with us into the city that is not negotiable,” Aegon spoke in a commanding voice.

Ruling a horde made it harder for him to keep that commanding air and presence out of his voice, as the woman nodded her head firmly like she had no problem with that. But even then Aegon did not trust it but the Dothraki flowed easily from his lips.

“Rest at the camp but be ready to fight at a moment's notice we don't trust these people,” Aegon spoke in a cold cruel voice.

The doors began to part as the Dothraki rode off to the camp but the Targaryens and Northern men were making their way into the city. Lyra was talking effortlessly with Enyo and they were talking about names for the baby. Enyo swore that they were going to be twins just like she and Meleys were twins.

It worried Aegon because he knew that was a great chance after all Daenerys had heard stories about twins having more twins. It amuses her for every one child that she has. Enyo would have two. She did not feel bitter about it if anything she found it amusing, Enyo was the one that couldn't stand the screaming of a child late at night and yet she might have two children keeping her up.

Dacey and Rhaegar had blank look on their face as they took stock of the defenses of the city and the people that were in them. They watched them cheer from the section, some of the men cried from one eye as they came out to see the dragons and their lords. While women had a breast exposed whether it was her right breast or her left it did not matter. All of them were dressed in fine silks with rich rubies, diamonds, gold bangles, and pearls lining their persons. It was this wealth that drew them here.

There is a great arcade where the heroes of the city stand atop columns of green and white marble. The statues are three times as big as a man. The Pureborn of Qarth rule from the Hall of a Thousand Thrones all of them were watching from the gallows looking at the crimson scales of Ares as he darted through the air.

Watching the predatory dragon Toxicana and Balerion flew around in circles around Enyo and Dany ready to protect them at any moment's notice. The baby blue dragon that still did not have a name was roaring in power as they stalked the skies.

While Silverwing danced in the sky glad to be on display as she did aerial loops before rising higher and higher, while Arrax and Eragon flew over the horde ready to burn the walls if need be. Daenerys was turned to look over to the rest of the city, there were the warlocks that were standing off to the side.

The warlocks of Qarth were leering at the Targaryen hungering for the magic that was in their blood wishing that they had the power that they could never hope to have.

Larger than most market towns, the palace of Xaro Xhoan Daxos where they would be staying includes gardens, a marble bathing pool, a scrying tower, and a warlock's maze. Located on the route between Xaro's palace and the Hall of a Thousand Thrones is a cavernous building home to a bazaar. A thousand gaily colored birds live on the latticework ceiling. On the terraced walls above stalls, trees, and flowers bloom.

Daenerys felt Aegon at her side as he whispered in a low voice, “This isn't right, if I saw a horde of 45,000 with six dragons that could do serious damage then I wouldn't welcome them into the city I would kill them in their sleep and take the beast for myself and if that was not possible i would put them down. There is no way that they are simply doing this for the wonder and joy. They are planning something, so we need to plan something faster.” Aegon spoke in a low voice.

Daenerys knew that he was right but now what else could they do besides rest.

_After they rested._

‘I don't like this” Aegon spoke in a venomous whisper.

He was walking back and forth his shoulder tense as Helios followed the same motion, Nala was running her bright pink tongue along the head of her own cub as he nipped and tried to get away from his mother. All the while Rhaego lay on his stomach joy filling his wine-colored eyes as he gripped at the blue dragon his finger gently as he petted the dragon's small blocky head.

Aegon and Daenerys did not feel right naming the dragon that belonged to their son so instead, they just called him the blue dragon some of the Dothraki had turned to call him ocean after the poison water.

“You don't like a lot of things Egg, your skeptical of everyone you don't know. We have been traveling with you for five months and you still do not trust my mother. I'm not even sure that you like her.” Lyra spoke in a taunting voice.

Aegon knew that she meant no disrespect as he turned to look at her shimmering gray eyes, any other time Dany might have enjoyed teasing him with her if not for the fact that he was right. Many people from sailors to high born had been giving them gifts all day today including a matching crown of three dragons roaring in a silver circuit with rubies. It was starting to get too much when finally, Helios fed off Aegon's rage and almost attacked a Qarth man.

They had asked that Helios and Nala never leave the manse that they are staying in, which did not end well with Aegon. He looked over to Lyra letting out a burst of mock laughter as he spoke.

“Haha, you know that is not the same thing these people are too happy to friendly, we are Targaryens knowing us is a death sentence unless you turn us over to Robert no one would be happy to see us unless they are getting a rich payday. I'm telling you that there is something wrong with them.” Aegon spoke as his pacing stopped.

Daenerys was laying on the bed easting some sweet tarts as her body relaxed in the bed, Lyra was leaning against the wall next to Enyo who was sitting on the window sill, her fingers were running along the smooth neck of Toxicana who was in midflight screeching with joy. Ares and Balerion had taken to sleeping on the roof ready to attack anyone that got too close. 

Eragon never let Rhaegar side no matter how much he orders him to stay with Lyanna the young dragon knew that something was going wrong even if they did not let it on. Now Rhaegar and Lyanna were at the ports speaking with shipmasters all over the place. Enyo’s eyes were drawn to the courtyard wishing that she was down there but in the 2 months that she had been pregnant she was growing larger and faster than Deanery though she had a glow about her and her form was getting curvier.

“She is right Egg you don't trust easily that was just how we were raised, and it might have damaged us in the long run, but you are not wrong not right now. They are strange, do you see the way that they eye Rhaego and my stomach? Like they want to snatch the babies away, even the ones that have yet to be born. I do not want to burn this city to the ground, but it is looking like there is no peaceful way to take this city. We might have to kill all of them.” Enyo shrugged her shoulder like it was normal.

Daenerys sucked in a heavy breath as she spoke softly, “We are going to speak with the thirteen, I'm going to the spice king and 5 other members and Aegon the other 6 hopefully they will help us and if not the Pureborn have expressed interest in us. But we cannot leave Rhaego unprotected and not all of us can be here, Lyanna and Dacey are going with Aegon. Rhaegar and Lyra as well as ser Jorah with me. Someone needs to be here with Rhaego, there is none that we trust more with Rhaego then you Enyo.” 

The movement that she spoke she knew that she had her sister's wife hook line and sinker. She could see it the way that her shoulder dipped and her chest sunken in, her bright smoke gray eyes darkened as her fingers traced the flame hilt of her blade. She smiled weakly as she looked down at her good son. His sweet wine color eyes were locked on her like he knew that she was talking about him.

After taking in a heavy sigh she nodded her head rather reluctantly as she let out a weary breath, “Fine I could use a little nap we both could, couldn't we sweet boy.”

Enyo walked over to Rhaego lifting the drooling baby up into her arms as she smiled warmly at the cutie little babe. Both making their way over to the bed as she let out a heavy breath, “Go one the lot of you I going to take a long nap and dream that Aegon brings me sweet tarts when I wake”

Enyo's voice was not playful. She meant every word and Aegon knew it as he let out a heavy breath, he is doting when it comes to his girls and unwavering to his men.

“Yes, my love” Aegon spoke with a heavy sigh as he placed a kiss on Enyo’s lips before kissing Rhaego’s forehead.

A sense of foreboding filled the air as they walked out of the room as if they knew that there was a chance that when they came back, they would not be here.

Enyo IV

Enyo did her best to fight off sleep. She said that she was going to nap but she wanted to get a look around the manse. Never did she think that she would really be sleeping this late in the afternoon, her body was heavy as she cradled Rhaego against her chest as the ocean sat at her side snoring softly as black smoke left his flaring nostrils.

He was only a day or two old and he seemed different from their round of dragons, she wondered if eggs that were born in the lands beyond the asshai grew faster or were smarter she was not really sure. The lands beyond the Asshai did not lose their magic like the rest of the world did when Valyria fell, and the dragons died. It made her think that their eggs might have a leg up that their western eggs did not.

Enyo knew that there was something that was wrong there was no doubting that but it didn't change the fact that she was filled with raging hormones and was utterly exhausted and as she took one last look at the yard she knew that her lids were about to shut. She could feel the warm overbearing flames of Toxicana as she lay against the balcony ready to kill anyone that got into the room. 

It was late in the afternoon when they came they knew that Aegon and Daenerys would be at their meetings and they were prepared to make sure that the 13 and the pureblood would keep them busy for the whole day. It would be more than enough time for them to take apart. They wanted it to be difficult to take the large dragons but to feed off the three babies, a woman, and a dragon would be easy.

They slipped through the halls, with ease the lesson that had once been stalking the ground were now passed out, drugs placed in their meat kept them from being a threat, but the warlocks were not fools. Killing the lions might kill whatever magic that is linked between them and their bonded skin changers.

They stalked through the shadows as they stood before the door, 20 of them, ready to slip in the room and take her by force; they knew that a few of them might die. Targaryen women do not go out with a whimper but a bang.

The shadow danced around the room as they pushed the door open. Creeping in they pushed the door open to see the pregnant queen resting on the bed, there was dark air around the queen. They thought that they were still and silent, but they did not see the dragon whose claws clutched the balcony, and her black claws were ripping into the marble balcony.

They knew that now it would not be a game of silent and stealth but quick and sloppy, a flash of whiteness flutter over the face of the dragon as a tension built in the air and the scent of sulfur started to filled the air the dragon's maw began to open as purple flames came darting out

The warlocks scattered across the room as Enyo’s eyes slowly began to open her eyes, after first she thought that the lights were playing tricks on her. But then she watched those shadows take the form of men with deep blue lips and soulless black eyes that forced shivers down her spine.

“If you thought that you would get the drop on me then you are wrong, I see everything there isn't an inch of this room that I didn't see.” Enyo started to rise from the bed, careful of the babe in her arm.

She knew that she would not be able to fight to her fullest if her good son was clutched in her arms gently and carefully; she placed the babe on her bed. She was not sure if her nephew was fireproof, so she had to be careful about what happened in the room. She rushed forth darting to the corner and she quickly grabbed Darksister. The lightweight sword felt good in my grasp as it shines in the moonlight while the ruby pulse with power.

10 men lunged widely at her as her long strides carried her across the room with power and purpose coursing through her veins. She did not think about the thrill of the kill but protecting her son and the unborn children in her body. She did not look back even as she listened to the roar of the baby dragon. Toxicana was careful letting out a short burst of flames but she could not get them all, not if she wanted to kill the babe.

They lunged madly at Enyo and her at them, Enyo could see two more men melting from the shadows stalking at Enyo with frenzied madness. But as fast as they emitted from the shadows Toxicana melted them with her purple flames. Burning flesh and hair filled the air forcing Rhaego to cry his eyes out as his clenched fist balled up shaking angrily at the air as he wished for his father and mother.

Gripping tightly to the warn grip of Darksister she didn't wait for them to get into the killing zone she darted forth, the blade pulsed a crimson red blood erupted into the air as Enyo slashed upwards in a single killing arc, the metal bit deep into his skin slicing through his muscle and tendon easily before hitting the bone. Enyo could feel his rib cage cracking against her blade as blood erupted covering her face and body with a red film. A warmth folded against her skin as she continued to fight.

A metallic taste filled her mouth as blood filled her eyes, blurring my vision. She thought that she was going to win but just as she cut down 10 men then 12 then 13 then 14 but those last six men were more than aboding her blows, they were winning. When she whirled around on her heels, she found that the six man had a hand around the throat of the little dragon lord, his face threatening to turn blue.

Slowly the wizard unlatched his throat as the baby began to cry out once more the color came back to his skin. One wizard had a knife to the throat of the young prince as he held the crying bed, but the other warlock had knives pointed to the baby dragon's throat. Enyo wanted nothing more than to slit their throats and be down with them. But she could not because she knew that the slightest movement would kill the babe and the dragon, and they would still take her. She dropped her blade among the dead bodies and put her hands up.

“Just let me hold him, to get him to stop crying” She hates crying, but not because she did not like the baby but because she thought that he was in pain. But whatever maternal love she felt for the child was not going to move the cold-hearted men in front of her.

She swore that she would never to be a victim ever again yet here she was falling to those very cruel men right here but not because of her weakness but because of her love. She hated it but the man spoke in a annoyed voice, “why so you can kill us the moment that we hand him over’

He laughed at her as one of the men stalked over her, putting a blade to her back as she looked over to Toxicana shaking her head no when she felt the rising rage of her dragon. She knew that she could make it out of this alive. But would Toxicana be able to kill them all before they killed Rhaego, she had no way of knowing that Rhaego would survive the flames. It was one thing to walk out of normal flames but magical ones? Doubt filled her mind.

“At least tell me where we are going?” Enyo's voice was shaking with doubt.

The man that spoke was the warlock that was there when they first came into them, the one that she now knew to be Pyree.

“To the house of the undying course.” His voice was smug. There is no way that this could be good for Enyo or her good son. Would they even make it out of this alive?

* * *

Meleys IV

She knew that there was something wrong that there was this constant buzzing in the back of her skull told her that there was something wrong with her twin. There were times that Meleys thought that she knew what her twin was thinking. It was only after the dragon's blood in their body was awakened did their bond grow stronger. There were times that she swords she warged in the mind of her twins, but she knew the thought was foolish.

Daenerys and Xaro walk in the garden, the sweet scent of jade and vanilla filling the air helping to ease the frayed nerves as she and Kovarro trail them. Both were listening but their minds were elsewhere. While her nerves had started to calm down Meleys could not help but think that there was something wrong.

Silverwing was no longer dancing in the sky there was panic in her eyes as screeched as Meleys should have now in that there was something going on. Balerion seemed enraged as he swooped down in the sky letting lose a short burst of black flames veined with red. Snapping at the guard in gilded armor and hate flared in his smoldering red eyes.

Daenerys was shocked at the sight trying to calm the dragon down, but her heart was racing, and she knew that something was wrong. All the dragons had felt it the moment that they got there, the lust, the hunger, the blood lust that filled the air. They could all joke and tease Egg for not trusting these people. Meleys knew that his suspicions were right, and something was wrong. The meeting the traffic throughout the city it was taking too damn long something is going on at the manse.

She wanted to shove the thin man aside and launched through the garden until she reached the steps that would reach the rooms that were resting in, but she was forced to walk at a slow pace. She hated that she did not have a weapon to fight with, it never bothered her. She had a mind of politics but now she wished that she learned how to fight alongside Daenerys who was wearing a dagger on her hip hidden beneath the folds of her dazzling sky blue dress with intricate golden lace.

“The Spice King refuses me because I'm a bad investment. The Silk King will not support me because of his business with the Lannisters. Why offend his best customer? And the Copper King offers me a single ship on the condition that I lie with him for a night. Does he think I will whore myself for a boat?” Daenerys ranted as she looked to the sky.

Balerion was gone; he was not hovering above her any longer; he was flying ahead of them circling the manse as he sensed something was off. Meleys wished that she were as talented as her brother and sister in the mystical arts. Yes, she was a warg, but she still has not slipped into the mind of the young dragon Silverwing. She had tried but each time a soft raspy voice would echo in her mind.

“You are not ready yet.” She knew that it was Silverwing in her mind, but it did not make her feel any less useless.

She could slip into the mind of crows, and horses but wolves, lions, she had no skill for it and she knew that it would take practice but she needed to be skilled at it now she needed to know what was going on and she had to figure it out fast.

“When I came to power in this city, I had nothing. Truly nothing. But today, I am the richest man in Qarth. Do you think the path from poverty to wealth is always pure and honorable? I have done many things, Khaleesi, that a righteous man would condemn. And here I am, with no regrets.” He spoke and honey silk lies

Dany did not believe it as she scoffed and looked at the manse as they got closer, “we are dragon lords. I have no problem with shedding blood or getting down in the muck. But if Aegon had heard that he would have had his tongue cut out and fed to Ares.” Daenerys spit at the ground disgusted with the thought.

Xaro’s eyes darkened at the mention of the blood-red dragon with the silent yet implosion princess and the equally terrifying man, Meleys never feared her brother but she knew that a great many of the Dothraki both loved and feared the man that she knew to be her brother. But to her, he was the sweet boy that slowed down just when he was about to win the race just so that Meleys could win.

He was the same boy that used to sing to her and play the harp before he picked up a sword. That is the man she knew but this man the one that Xaro knew chilled him and the rest of the 13 to the one and he had yet to wake the dragon.

Xaro opens the door for Daenerys and Meleys the moment they did she could see Toxicana was gone there was blood littering the floor as cold puddles glimmered in the early light, the few Dothraki guards that they left to protect the she-wolf queen and the dragon wolf prince. They move into the courtyard to find it strewn with bodies; throats cut. Daenerys placed one hand on her hip where her blade rested, ripping from her leg as she rushed up the stare in panic tears filling her eyes.

Meleys did not move, she was studying the bodies before her as she looked over to the gates where Nala and Helios were resting, their eyes slowly opening. There were slow like they had been drugged. There was half-eaten meat resting on the ground they were glistening and the way that they were resting on the ground made her think that they were flung over the wall and once they passed out they made their way into the room.

“Bar the gates. Ring the bells. Slowly, Khaleesi.” Xaro spoke carefully rushing after Daenerys.

But Meleys was not so convinced as she spoke in a booming tone, “Silverwing come here” She roared with power

Something dark awakened in her as Silverwing slammed into the ground with a dangerous thud her hind legs were tensed as her silver skin shimmered in the light as she leered at the dead bodies another time a forked tongue would make an appearance but this time there was only pain in her eyes.

Meleys took a few steps forward then a few more until she was sprinting up the stairs with Silverwing flying over her darting quickly through the air as her long coiling neck was ready to rip apart whoever was in the room.

But what greeted her was startling there were 14 bodies littering the ground. Blood splashed the room red as she noticed the blade that her sister never let out of her sight. The flame hilt was rated on the ground as the flaming ruby played in the absence of its owner. Bright purple flames chard the walls.

The men that were dead on the floor were men with blue lips and gaunt faces with pale taunting skin, hate flooded her heart as she noticed that not only was her twin gone but her nephew and his baby blue dragon were gone as well. Her heart was booming in her ears as she dropped in the pile of blood looking at the only thing that her sister left behind was her blade.

“Where are they? Where is my son? Where is Enyo?!!” She screeched at the top of her lungs.

Her mind was racing and all Meleys could think so that if she had listened to that buzzing in the back of her skull if she was a better warg then maybe just maybe she would be able to find her sister instead she and their nephew were missing. She could not lose her. She almost lost her once before and she was nervous the same not this time not again.

Before Meleys even know what, she was doing, she was no longer kneeling in the cold blood of one of the warlocks. Black smoke and soot from burning flesh and bubbling skin were filling the air but she did not smell it. She simply felt this enrapturing fury as she places the blade at Xaros throat that murderous hate was fueling her.

The gleaming sword had a dangerous black aura that was sucking her in making her want to kill him, but her breath was calm, her mind stayed and for the first time ever in her life all the doubt in her mind slipped away and she was clear.

“Where is she?!! Where are my sister and my nephew telling me now!!” She roared as furious tears bore her son.

Hate-filled her as her shoulder began to shake but he stammered saying that he did not know, but she was no fool he knew even if he did not tell her. She knew that he knew and if he did not fear her then he would fear Aegon when he came home.

_After Aegon Gets Back_

He did not know it at the time but when he got home all hell would break loose the voice and images of Helios faded from his memory; he did not think much about it. He thought that Helios simply went to sleep; he did not know how wrong that he was until he was standing in the courtyard with an upset Daenerys and Enyo.

Daenerys was a sobbing mess her fingers were running manically through her hair as she cried for Rhaego. Meleys was still and calm dispatch even as her good sister was panicked and filled with terror, she was cold and murderous. Aegon's heart jumped into his chest as he noticed the bodies around them.

“What happened?” Aegon spoke in a calm voice at first.

Looking around the courtyard as Rhaegar, Lyanna, Lyra, and Dacey walked into seeing the same slaughter as Rhaegar walked a little bit further into the room as Aegon rushed over to Daenerys who was a sobbing face her face covered in tears as she struggled to breathe her chest heaving as Aegon spoke in a gentle voice.

“Calm down Dany and speak it's okay you're safe” Aegon's voice tender and kind. 

Though Meleys could see the fury and his body, the way that his shoulder tense, or the way that his finger tapped on his leg like he did not have the time to be patient. He was just as panicked as Daenerys though he hid it behind love and concerned mask.

“Rhaego…. Enyo…. There are dead bodies…. Toxicana is missing….” For a moment Daenerys' words were jumbled; it was her son that was taken her blood a piece of her.

Terror flooded her body but she took in a steady breath Mel watched as Dany claimed down her mind settling as she spoke in a cool tone, “We came home to find the bodies of 14 warlocks Rhaego was gone and so was Enyo her blade was left. Both Toxicana and the ocean were gone as well. They took them, they took our son.”

Terror flooded her as her hands began to shake with fury, Meleys turned to look at Aegon watching him stew in rage as she spoke in perfect Dothraki.

“Bring him Kovarro” She spoke in a cold voice.

Meleys turned to look at the sky where Ares was descending like a red comet, slamming in the ground, silt ruby red eyes filled with a fury unknown to Meleys. The fury that Aegon would not let himself show as she looked over to her brother a sneer pulling at her own plump lips.

“Bring who?” Aegon spoke in a low voice.

Stalking over to her in a predatory like motion Meleys knew that he was no threat to her, so she did not even back down. Instead, she jerked her head to the steps where a pale and thin man began to descend the steps as a Dothraki boy point his arms behind his back. There was hatred filling the young Dothraki boy as Irri and Jacqui, and Doreah fluttered over the in-shock Daenerys whose fingers were toying with the dagger

“We tried to torture him, but he would not tell us where they took our boy,” Daenerys spoke as for the first time Aegon noticed the blade had dried crusted blood on it.

The pale thin man was paler than usual as his eyes scanned Aegon seen in the anime like fury that enclosed him like a cape or armor. His sword Blackfyre began to pulse at his back as he jutted his chin out.

“Do you think that he knows something?” Aegon questioned slowly as he nodded to Kovarro

The Dothraki boy did it without thinking, no one wondering what his khal might do that his Khaleesi did not do. But Daenerys and Meleys both focused and spoke in a cold voice.

“YES” Their voices were so firm that Aegon could not help but believe him, he felt his body growing cold as he nodded his head firmly.

The love and warmth left his eyes there was nothing but a sheer determination and hatred for the man before him

“Where are my son and wife? It is the only time that I'm going to ask you're nice after that it will get really unpleasant” Aegon spoke in a chilling tone.

They all watched the light leave his eyes as his body became more rigid as Ares moved to his right and Helios to his left. Both his animals had a dark glint in their eyes as they flashed white as if Aegon was playing their memories over in his head before turning it looks at Xaro. His lips were pressed into a firm and grim line as something dark passed over his stare before he spoke.

“I don't know what happened to the Queen or the young prince I was with your first wife the whole time.” His voice was starting to grow shrill with terror and he should be afraid.

Aegon nodded his head as tension forced all the men and women in the courtyard to freezing as murderous pressure rolled off Aegon in waves and every one friend and foe watched their lives flashed before them. Aegon looked down at Helios before looking up to Ares who was already taller than him.

A fifteen-year-old boy more imposing than either beast at his side, “Very well then Ares” Aegon didn't speak his command but Ares knew what to do, his long crimson neck darted through the air flashing like a blur. Erupting screams of pure anguish filled the air.

Everyone watched as tears streamed down the pale man's face as bright crimson fluid that matched the scales of Ares slipped down his right shoulder as black teeth ripped apart the tender flesh. A loud crunch could be heard as teeth ripped so easily through the thin man flesh and bone as blood erupted into the air as his shrill screams did not lesson.

“Where are they?!!” Aegon spoke in a cold voice.

The once calm man was enraged with murderous fury flooded his voice as he grew unhinged, his fingers gripping tightly to the leather hilt of his blade. He looked like he wanted to slash the man, but he did not so much as move as his hand stilled. Once he was done screaming there were tears streaming down his face.

“Please I don't know” Xaro begged.

His eyes were pleading as he fought the urge to cry out but there was no mercy for him with a swift and sure, Meleys didn't even see the bit of the blade just the blow turning the red aura a bit darker.

A slash littered his face, Meleys could not help but stare fascinated as his right eyes were sticking out of his socket. A long string tendril kept his eyes hanging over his chest. There was a murderous fury that shook Aegon, keeping him from having any sympathy.

“Where are they?!!” He roared with hatred.

The moment that he spoke Meleys could see the way that darkness began to befall him as he nodded his head when he was only greeted with silence. 

“Helios” Aegon spoke in a murderous voice.

The moment that he spoke, Helios moved as if he did more than just speak his name, after a long moment he was sneering as Helios claws slashed at his chest as fury enclosed in Aegon. He stalked just a bit closer as he dropped down to one knee watching as the blood spilled from his five-claw slash. The blood was spilling out so fast that Dany was worried that he would die before he told them the truth.

“Where is he?” Menacing and cold his voice echoed in the air still dangerous.

The others were disgusted with the action of the lord, as Aegon watched the thin men beg for release as Aegon dropped to one knee gripping tightly to the chin of the thin man. Ares bite kept him in place as he leered at the man that he had sunk his teeth in.

“If you want this to stop you just have to tell me where my son is. Where are my wife and sister? Tell me that and I'll end this suffering right now.” A warm gentle voice echoed in all their ears.

There was a tension to the air as Xaro let out a weak whimper as he finally spoke in a broken voice.

“The pure born wanted a dragon for themselves but they knew the older ones that you have are unruly and powerful they're old enough to know that we are not to be trusted but if we had dragon lords under our them and baby dragons to control then...we have all the power that we need and the rest of the beast and dragon lords can be put down…..” Xaro spoke in a cold voice.

There was a stillness to the air as a sense of dark foreboding flooding the air. Suddenly all the pity that they had held for the man faded away. There was hatred flooding of Mel's fury began to overtake her once more. Only this time she wanted not Xaro dead but all Qarth.

“Did all of Qarth know that this was the plan? Is that why the meeting took longer than they should have and still they told me no!! So, you people have time to take my baby!!!” Daenerys roared as Balerion dropped on the ground and Silverwing stalked over to Xaro. The three dragons were murderous and dark eyes ready to rip him apart.

The wind began to rise as Daenerys' fear was overtaken by her mind and body, her shoulder shook with fury as the man looked over to Daenerys' utterly murderous fury as Balerion let out a shrill testament to his rider's rage. Xaro let out a heavy breath and nodded his head reluctantly before speaking in a cool voice.

“They are at the house of the undying that is where they are at now please stop” Xaro begged.

Aegon nodded his head as he looked over to his blood riders. “Ser Jorah got with my wife and got my son and wife back. Kovarro goes with them, Jhogo, Aggo got to the gates and opened the gate, gathered them, and sacked the city. I am going to the pure born, they want a dragon I will give them one. Father kills all the 13 but three they can take the cities in the red waste and rebuild them for us. One Pureborn gets to live the rest get to die.” Aegon spoke in a cold voice.

He looked over to Xaro smiling at him, “Like I promise I will end this, Ares, once you finish your meal meet me at the purebloods.” He spun sharply on his heels as he stalked off.

Meleys felt a great sense of desperation as screams echoed in the air, Ares, Balerion, and Silverwing attacked Xaro, their black teeth snapping like daggers ripping through his skin. The dragons took to the sky each one of them gripping tightly to a piece of the man as they snapped at each other as they ripped him apart and rained blood down on them.

“Aegon wait I'm coming with you.” Meleys knew that she could not fight but that did not mean that she was going to let this stand.

Aegon simply nodded his head as he did not even so much as look over his shoulder.

* * *

Daenerys IX

The House of the Undying is a grey and ancient stone ruin that stands with no other buildings near. It is long and low, without towers or windows, and is coiled like a stone serpent through a grove of black-barked trees the leaves of which are used to make shade of the evening. Black tiles cover the palace's roof, many of them fallen or broken, and the mortar between its stones is dry and crumbling. The building does not appear to have any towers.

The palace's door is a tall oval mouth set in a wall fashioned in the likeness of a human face. Before entering, a person seeking an audience with the Undying must drink shade of the evening, so that they may "hear and see the truths" that will be laid before them.

Daenerys peers through a boarded entryway. Ser Jorah was confused and worried about the young prince and the queen that was resting in the tower. He did not know what would happen if the king did not get his family back then the whole world would burn.

“Careful, Khaleesi. Xaro might be dead but the rest of the city wants Rhaego and the babes, the warlocks have a thousand eyes watching for you.” Ser Jorah spoke carefully as he looked at the queen.

“They have my son, they have my niece, I will not leave without either of them. I do not care how many eyes they have. Aegon is poking out those very eyes right now. We will take their ships; we will take their gold and we will take their city.” Daenerys walked off

Taking up the steps as Kovarro was walking behind her giving Ser Jorah a pitying look as if to say that there is no point in telling their Khaleesi no there was no way that she was going to leave without her son.

As she got closer, she had to fight the urge to jump back fighting the urge to grip the blade that was resting on her hip. The thin warlock with pale blue lips and gaunt cheeks stare back at him. Pyat melted from the tower as he stared at Kovarro and Ser Jorah.

“You must enter alone.” Pyat thought that he was slick.

Daenerys could tell as she looked up and down the men, she knew that if she entered the tower alone, she might not make it out of this, but she did not fear them. She could feel the heated stare of Balerion as he hid in the clouds.

Daenerys nodded her head and as she made her way into the tower, she could hear the voice of Pyat which utterly revolted her.

“The front way leads in, but not out again. There will be four doors; to reach the Undying, you must always take the first door on the right and always take the stairs up. You must not enter any room until reaching the audience chamber.” Pyat spoke.

Daenerys wanted to wring his neck and scream for her son, but she knew that she would never get him back, never get Enyo back if she did not do as she was told. After nodding her head firmly, she wanted to just go in but Pyat handed her a glass that had a dark blue liquid that was the evening shade.

Daenerys did not want to drink it. She was breastfeeding and did not want Rhaego to get sick from it, but she would not be able to find him if she did not drink it. Taking in a heavy breath she took in a few tentative sips from a slender crystal glass provided by a dwarf servitor.

Daenerys follows Pat's directions in the first few oval rooms which have four doors. The fourth room, however, is square with six passages. When she takes the rightmost passage, she enters a long torch-lit hallway with seemingly endless doors only to the left. Some of the doors are open, and Daenerys sees various visions when she looks through them. The hallway ends with a staircase that heads downward instead of upward.

The torches begin to go out and Daenerys thinks she hears something approaching her. Thinking that the first door on the right is the last door on the left, the terrified girl enters the last door before the stairs and then passes through numerous small rooms, continuing to follow Pyat's instructions.

The warlock appears and entreats her to follow, but Daenerys ignores him, goes through a door to the right, and climbs a long staircase. Atop the stairs are wide doors of ebony and weirwood decorated in interwoven patterns, behind which is a great hall of elaborately dressed wizards, both male and female. Ignoring them, Daenerys finds a hidden door of old grey wood to the right.

Her heart and mind pounding in her ears as she hunger for her child and sister-wife she would not let them die she would not let herself die she would fight for their right to live and they would fight for this city.

Daenerys finds herself in a gloomy chamber. A long stone table fills the room, above which floats a rotting human heart, swollen and blue with corruption. Indigo light pulses out with each deep, throbbing beat. The Undying Ones which are seated at the table appear to be dead, but Daenerys hears whispered echoes.

The Undying call her "mother of dragons" and "child of three" The raspy voice of the undying filled the air.

Daenerys then sees several visions of past and future events; while she is distracted, the Undying Ones attempt to drain her life. It was the screams of Rhaegar and the angry roar of Enyo that saved her.

“Let us go you cock-less wonders” She roared as the baby dragon screeched.

A flush of heat slammed against Daenerys as black flames bathed the room as the ceiling began to collapse inward and shining golden light bathed the open space. Balerion was circling the building from the outside burning down everything that was in his path. Daenerys did not pay them the least bit of attention; she rushed out of the room and into a small one.

The darkness was enclosing them as she rushed into the room as she noticed Rhaego bundled up in a crimson blanket his eyes were calm but lit up the moment that he saw his mother. A sense of ease rushed over her as she rushed over him. Enyo’s smoke-gray eyes were relieved as she looked over to the ocean. The blue dragon was curled contently around the prince, though Daenerys could see the collar and chains holding down not only One about the young dragon.

“Watch out” Enyo let out a screech.

At first, Daenerys did not know why until she spun sharply on her heels, her hair whipping against her face. There was Pyat a cruel smile on his face as his blue lips were cruel and twisted with hatred as she moved without thinking. Gripping tightly to her blade as she thrust it into his chest. The tower was grumbling as it shook viciously as the chains melted from Enyo and the blue dragon as the wet guttural scream of Pyat filled the air as baby blue let out a fresh screech he coached at first then it was puffs of blue flames then it was a steady stream that soaked his clothes.

Dany rushed over to Rhaego pulling her close as she let out a relieved sigh as she was glad to have her son back but there was still a conquering going on.

“What's going on out there,” Enyo questioned.

Daenerys turned to look at her pulling her into a one-arm hug as she pulled closer as she spoke in a cool voice.

“Aegon is making them pay, it was a plan the whole city was in on, the Dothraki are flooding the city. We will make an example of this city the way that Harren Hal was used as an example. Now let us get going there is a fleet to score and I'm sure that Toxicana will be happy to know that you are safe.” Daenerys spoke as the city a battle was being waged.

* * *

Aegon IX

The Pureborn rules the city of Qarth from the Hall of a Thousand Thrones. They command the Civic Guard, which includes camelry, and a fleet of ornate galleys which control the Jade Gates. Aegon knew that they were the ones that we're pulling the strings as he stalked through the city burning with a fury that would never be quenched unless it was with their blood.

To receive an audience with the Pureborn, a petitioner should make a traditional sacrifice in the Temple of Memory, offer a traditional bribe to the Keeper of the Long List, and send a traditional persimmon to the Opener of the Door. If all goes well, the petitioner will be sent a pair of blue slippers, signifying the granting of an audience in the Hall of a Thousand Thrones.

Aegon would not be doing that, he looked around the city watching the way that golden men rushed at them ready to attack them, but they never reached them. Ares let loose a barrage of crimson-colored flames the color of blood.

Burning skin and hair flooded his nose as he walked through the flame unbidden. He could hear the roar of women, men, and children as the Dothraki rolled in screaming at the top of their lungs and they slash and hacked.

There were arms flinging up in the air, blood erupted into the air painting them with blood as their horse reared with a furry and dragon flame rained down from the sky. Burning man until there was nothing but ash. Aegon stalked into the city not even so much as looking over his shoulder even though he knew that his sister could not fight.

Silverwing was flying behind her bright dazzling silver flames bathing men in an onslaught of flames until their skin melted from their bones and their muscle. Their wailing screams echoed in the air as they started to fade away to black ash and the scent of rotten eggs sharp and pungent slammed against their noses.

There were right there where Purebred rested, Aegon would see how high and mighty they would be when they had to fight off him and his dragons. There were guards that were resting in the hall of the thousand there were a few men that were rushing through the courtyard.

“Dracarys!” Aegon spoke.

The sounds of anguish and pain filled my ears as the scent of burning flesh and hair filled Aegon and Meleys nose. Black smokey clouds enveloped all Qarth but the port the only place that was untouched from the battle was the port. There was a startling sense of joy that flooded Aegon as he revealed in the devastation of the city that tried to take his son away from him.

Aegon could hear men screaming begging for his forgiveness as they fought the urge to collapse. Aegon simply walked past their burnt black bodies, his hands gripping tightly to his back as he ripped the blade from his back no one was going to get in his way. Steady streams of flames slammed into the ground. Aegon did not even so much as watch their burning forms in the flames before they fell to their knees awaiting death. 

His heart proudly wildly as he felt more alive at this moment than he had ever been in the throne room or anywhere else in the kingdom. Ares screeched with power as he dropped to the ground walking through the massive doorway of the hall of a thousand ready to burn someone or anyone and rip apart their corpse.

Meleys at one point used to have to fight the urge to gag but instead, there was a cold sensation of relief flooding her as she watched them burn glad that they would learn their lesson. The queen of the cities would learn that they are nothing compared to a dragon.

Skin black and charred stared back at Meleys as Silverwing drop down low tucked her wings as she darted through the room the long hall was high as they stalked through the hall enough room for two people.

All around them there was death and destruction swirling around all them. It did not take them long to get to the tall hall to see men sitting in the room as if nothing could touch them; it drove him to a murderous rage.

The Pureborn are enthroned on great wooden chairs of their ancestors, which rise in curved tiers from a marble floor to a high domed ceiling painted with scenes of Earth's vanquished glory. The unique chairs are immense, fantastically carved, bright with goldwork, and studded with amber, onyx, lapis, and jade. Each Pureborn wants his chair to be the most fabulous. All of them pale and thin as they loomed over the young dragon lord and his sister.

But the moment that Ares and Silverwing burst into the toy room the Pureborn began to stiffen as Aegon looked at the men before him. All of them pale and thin in true Qarth fashion. Hatred flooded the young prince as he pointed his blade at the tall throne speaking in a booming and menacing voice. The dying scream of children, women, and warriors alike filled the air.

“As we speak, children are dying, you gilded warriors' slaughter, horses are burning, and all of this could have been avoided. It would have been simple if you would have just left my son and wife in peace. Instead, you create lies and elaborate plans to steal my son, his dragon, my wife, and my unborn child all so that you could get a dragon. You wanted them and now you have them, we are taking your ships, and your gold. We will sail to Astapor and take what is ours with fire and blood. These cities in the red waste are ours, right now the 13 are beginning to sit down with my father, and then 3 of the remaining 13 will be allowed to live. They are going to settle the three dead cities in the waste creating more outposts for us and one of you will lead Qarth in our absence, the west employs wardens so shall we. The rest of you, well you took my son!!” Aegon's voice grew with fury.

He looked over to the leader of the Pureborn while the rest were begging and pleading for their lives; he stood firm. He held his convictions; he knew that if he broke him then he would have Qarth. He only simply pointed at the man, he felt strange without having Helios at his side but he was ripping apart men and women in the city where he needed to be protecting his mother and the rest of his family.

Ares would do, he launched through the air with a furious crack of his wings. It sounded like thunder as the horse-sized dragon slammed his hind legs onto the man while his arms pinned him down. Holding him in place so that he could only watch as Aegon dug deep power all his power into his legs and arms.

He is gripping tightly to his blade until his knuckles threatened to split. Slashing upwards and downwards blood erupted from their bodies as their flesh burst and the scent of shit soaked in the air. Scream of shrill terror filled the air but they were falling on deaf ears. Aegon's thirst for blood was boiling, his hand shook with cruelty as he gripped tightly to a woman holding her throat as he thrust his blade into her stomach. Slicing upwards until it reached her throat then he dropped her to the ground. Smirking as blood pooled around his feet.

He was a beast, slashing and hacking covered in red as he gave them a murderous grin, Meleys thought that she would have been terrified of her brother but instead, she hungers for more. They took her twin, Enyo is a piece of her she did not know if she would be able to live with herself if she had died or worse, she had never seen her again.

She felt herself wishing to see more blood as Aegon did his crimson dance cutting off the head of one man and splitting another in half all the while wings arms force the man to watch in utter horror as his pale skin painted was a new color crimson.

But the time that Aegon was done with them he was not even panting he was calm and clear-headed covered in blood as he looked down to the man that was all but a sobbing mess.

“Let me make myself clear, if I get even a whiff of lies of treason from you, if I even think that you are trying to revolt back to the old order I'll erase you from existence I will burn this place and all its inhabitants to the ground is that understood?” Aegon's voice oozed with power and command.

The man was shriveled and weak. He did not dare speak out, but he nodded his head. The pride in his eyes began to flee and Aegon dropped down to one knee and spoke in a cruel voice.

“If my son or either one of my wives is hurt by your warlocks, I'll kill you all simply to prove a point the days of hunting Targaryens are over. Now let us go make an address to the public. Ares Silverwing feast on the corpses.” Aegon spoke and the dragon did as they were commanded not that they would need a lot of prodding after all they were fighting their basic intent to feed on man.

As they launched onto the bodies wet snapping could be heard as they happily chewed the meat, Qarth had fallen to the Dothraki and their Khal who would mount the world. They incur his wrath and paid the price would the rest of the eastern realm be so foolish.

Only time would tell but one thing was clear their next stop was Astapor.


	36. Where Are They Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next is the sacking of Astapor and a battle of the Stormlands stay tuned

Little Finger II

Things had been tensing since the disappearance of Ser Barristan with the aid of Benjen and two northern lords they were able to escape and at the cost of two good knights or passable knights depending on who you ask. Now there was nonstop friction in the city the Wardens were working hard to prepare for war but they didn’t know what war they were going to be fighting but Little Finger knew the Targaryens were here and he would make sure to tell them all.

He looked over to the King who was stalking about the room outrage as he leered at Ned who had been rubbing his brow wearily like he was thinking about something unpleasant. When the wardens left Catelyn left with them preferring to spend time with her youngest son that was still training in the Vale to be a great knight. Little Finger had to admit that Bran was as skilled as his name sake he worked tirelessly, and he knew that one of these days they would be in battle and that boy would be at the front lines.

The Starks had been here for a year and they were still harsh northerners, but they absorbed some of the Southern custom to win the war and survive the south. Robb Stark was now a grown man and would be traveling down here in a matter of weeks to marry Margaery. But before that happened Little Finger was going to stir up a little trouble. He looked over to the rest of the council land they lumber their way in.

Little Finger looked over to Varys enjoying the fact he was squirming like he knew something, but it was not what Little Finger knew. The moment that they all sat down Little Finger spoke in a quicken voice before anyone could ask why they were here or steal his spotlight.

“As you know the golden company never breaks there contracts but they did this time, for a boy claiming to be Aegon Targaryen, since you, yourself my king saw the dead baby laid at your feet we can only assume that he is a Blackfyre playing at a Targaryen I doubt that Rhaegar would allow this lie to go on. But the interesting thing is that there were cog ships seen like the kind that you could hide elephants in. They were found off the coast of Dorne we have our answer from the Dornish they are fighting a losing war with the false Targaryen.” Little Finger spoke in a smug voice.

Almost as if he were enjoying the fact that he finally got all the information that Varys did not get to know but just when he thought that he had a leg up he was wrong. Robert bellowed in rage, but he did not have time to stew in it. Not like Little Finger would have like instead there was a blackness that flickered across the face of Varys.

The last thing that he wanted was for Maegor to be outed before he could even get to take his first kingdoms now it would seem that he would have no choice but to tell the whispers that he had heard in the hopes that they would distract the king for a bit longer though it would be tough seeing as how the Targaryens are on the eastern shore and Maegor was here where Robert could get to him.

“Your grace I have heard whispers from the east, Rhaegar met up with his brethren and his son named Aegon after the conqueror and he is living up to his name sake. He took the Hordes of the great grass sea and even as we speak, he has made his way across the red waste and taken Qarth but that is not the most troubling of the news. It would seem that he married his aunt Daenerys Targaryen and had a son, now they make their way across the east, to where I am not sure but I heard that they used dragons to burn their enemies and take Qarth. The number of dragons is unknown, but many sailors have whispers about dragons taking over Qarth.”

The moment that the dragons are mentioned everything stopped, Tywin who had been sitting in on the meeting scoffed as he leered at Varys as if he was told the most foolish of all lies. The moment that he said dragons Ned’s eyes darken he had seen things, things that many others have not even now he had a magical beast of his own resting at his side, a Direwolf as pure as snow and twice as dangerous. He knew that this was not some foolish dream but something real even if he did not know it, not yet.

His heart thunder in his chest as Robert roared in rage slamming his thick meaty fist so hard into the table that Little Finger thought that they were going to split. The thunderous hit shook everything that rested on the table; his cobalt blue eyes were swimming with fury as his shoulders turned rigid and something sinister quivered across his face. 

“Dragons are not real and if and I say if they are real, they will get no bigger than cats they are nor real threat but that Targaryen child at the head of a Dothraki Horde. They are the real threat and soon Stannis has really reached Ebon Head, have him go to Qarth find them and kill them” Robert roared bright red in the face as he began to stalk about the room.

Bright red eyes were locked on Robert as dangerous silent snarl began to rumble in the back of Ghost throat as if he was ready to fight the king that his lord had soared to protect there was something wrong with the wolf. Little Finger knew that there was something amiss and he would figure out what it was.

Varys on the other hand seemed happy seeing the way that the other tripped over themselves about dragon and Targaryens budding massive holders of Dothraki and soldiers were created to fight a battle that they should otherwise have none signing in.

The thoughts of the Blackfyre left all their mind if only for a moment. Hopefully pondering if the dragons are real or not would by them time. But by doing so Varys made his hand clear at least to Little Finger.

He was with the Blackfyre and he really picked the wrong hand so it made Little Finger think he should be with the Baratheons or the Blackfyre or maybe even the Targaryen only time will tell but he will wait and watch carefully. He will steal the throne for himself soon enough no matter who sits on throne and no matter what flies in the sky. 

The Frog Prince I

There was darkness around the city. It hung heavy in the city. It was ominous and cold. The walls, the building, even the port was made with the same kind of black stone that seemed to be drinking in the light. The coldness of the city force shivers of regret and doubt to form down the spine of the frog prince. He did not dare make his way from the ship but even now he and his companions heard the whispers of dragons, and their lords burning down Qarth.

It spread like dragon fire across the realm, even as they spoke Quentyn knew that there were three cities being built in the red waste. Massive pipes and tubes coming from the ocean and into the cities in deep wells that were beginning the first to build after all you can live without water. Quentyn wanted to see these oases in an uncrossable desert. Wanted to see what the world had to offer but first he wanted a dragon of his own and this was the only place to get one.

His heart thundered in his chest, pounding so loudly that he could not breathe, he could sense the dark ominous presence feeling it curling around his throat like a rough and ready to rip him apart.

His legs were locked into place, terror flooding so fresh into his heart and mind that he almost cried out in terror. After all the Targaryen madness was known and already it seeped into the minds of the younger Targaryens.

They would not see it as madness, and neither would the warrior after all showing cruelty to their enemies is not madness. Not in the eyes of the warrior but in the eyes of everyday men and women that would seem like madness.

It made Quentyn think if he saw it as maddens was, he ever truly a warrior or just another boy playing with a sword and hoping to win some glory. He did not know but as he sailed across the dark waters getting closer and closer to the city, he could not help but think that he did not belong here.

Ser Gerris Drinkwater is a knight from House Drinkwater and a long-time friend of Prince Quentyn Martell. Having him at his back made the young prince feel better there was no one that he would want at his back more than this man beside him. But he could not help but feel a sense of jealousy. Gerris looked every bit like a prince that he did not look like.

Gerris is tall and lean and comely, with blue-green eyes and sandy, sun-streaked hair. He has a swordsman's grace and a courtier's wit. His confidence is often close to arrogance. Gerris wears an expensive cloak of soft brown wool lined with sand silk but now he wears a plain set of armor with a great sword resting on his back.

“Relax Quentyn everything is going to work out we will get your cousin these eggs that he wants do dearly, you will get an egg and I will get a pretty magical girl to fuck.” Ser Gerris spoke with crass words.

The moment that he spoke Quentyn had to fight the urge to blanch away like his words hurt him in some manner or another. He could only shake his head heavily as he turned to look at the other person in their part. A knight seasoned and just a bit more trustworthy then Ser Gerris the pretty knight.

Archibald is six-and-a-half-feet tall, broad of shoulder and huge of belly. He has legs like tree trunks, hands the size of hams, and no neck. Arch's bald head reminds others of a stone. Arch wields a spiked Warhammer, a dagger, and has fine armor. There are times that Archibald is aggressive at dicing and easily becomes seasick.

He had been seasick more than a few times but now that they are making their way into port his stomach was startling to settle and he was growing bolder with each moment. There was a warm smile on his face as he bumped his young prince's shoulder.

“Quentyn this idea of magic is foolish. We will get these stones and sell them. They will not hatch you know it and I know it and that foolish brat will know it before he sells them. Give them to the crownlands and they will side with the Dornish spears. Let them try out foolishly to hatch the eggs.” Archibald rolled his eyes.

Quentyn did not dare speak, his eyes were locked on the gloomy shadows, he did not want to seem like a fool but even he wanted to own a dragon of his own. If the Targaryens could hatch a stone, then so should he. After all he had dragons’ blood in him as much as they did. Sure, it had been many generations since a silver hair Martell was born. But times were changing the dragons were awakening in the afternoon son of the lands of Asshai.

At least that's what a half crazed maester obsessed with the mystical arts, a hunger began to fill his chest as he fought the urge to wonder what it would be like to fly on the back of a dragon. He wanted nothing more than to ride one and now he would get his chance if he could just step foot in the city and find the eggs for himself.

Blackwater stared back at Quentyn slashing and slapping at the hull of the ship as rolling mist settled on the water. The air is cold and thick, the haunted air swirled around the small group of me. The moment that they docked a woman melted form the mist as if she was there the whole time. Her bright red eyes locked on Quentyn the moment that she notices him. Her lips did not quiver into a look of disdain like Quentyn has seen on the face of many other pretty women.

“Prince Quentyn, you come here seeking something for prince Maegor or is he calling himself Aegon now?” She questioned sweetly.

There was a certain smugness to her as she stood firm on the port, her hand hidden in red silks as her choker burned with power her bright red eyes were smug. She knew that she had something that they wanted, and the thought outraged the prince. But he was forced to swallow his rage as he smiled weakly as he nodded his head

“My dear cousin Aegon indeed sent me here for something that you stole from him while you were in photos.” Quentyn spoke in such a sure voice.

He began to descend the salt brine ramp as his men flocked after him, there was a darkness something that had nothing to do with the dark city around them. Something that they did not know that was going to affect them greatly. There was a shrill rage bubbling in Quentyn throat as he fought the urge to sneer. He knew that he needed this to go well.

“Very well then you want eggs come with me.” The red woman was smug as she twirled her silks flickering like fire.

She stalked off with the three men at her back each one of them were wondering where she was really taking them.

The buildings, streets, and walls of Asshai are all made from black stone that seems to drink the light making the city appear to be a dark and gloomy place. Structures include bazaars, halls, hovels, palaces, and temples. The largest building of the city was a temple that rested at the top of the hill, even here there were rumblings of law praying.

Quentyn’s heart thumped in his chest widely even if he had no magic, he could sense the power brewing in each step that he took. With each breath that entered his lungs he could feel the charge of power as he walked through the permanent nightfall of the city. Feeling a burning light even though he could not see the sun.

“It's so dark here” Ser Gerris spoke in a low tone as he looked through the high mighty building that swirled around them.

There was a sense of skepticism that trembled in the air like they were not sure what was going on, only that there was something strange and off about this city that did not sit well with any of them. It felt like there were cold reptilian eyes watching from a distance waiting for them to mess up so that they could eat the three men before they could get the chance to fuck up anything else. 

Some of the crew perished along the way here if they did make it out of this city it would be on foot; they didn’t have enough hands to man the ship to the free cities let alone back to the west.

Quentyn took in every inch of the city almost like there was a chance that he would either never see the city ever again or that he wanted to commit it to memory because he is going to spend the next couple of years of life in prison.

There were these dark buildings that swirled around us with an eerie sensation.

“The city is filled with spellbinders; they work with shadows; they can't do that in a place of light.” The red women spoke with a casual shrug.

She could here every word of our conversation as she dance along the bricks of the city Quentyn watched the blank empty streets only darkness swirled around him as the words of the red women echoed in his ears but his mind was locked on a vast thick forest that was wrapped protectively around the forest was a massive black wall that sectioned off a massive part of the land. 

Taking in a heavy breath tried to clear my mind as Quentyn looked to the pale white grass it looked like the ghostly pale white. A shudder rushed down Quentyn’s spine as the cold air swirled around him despite being in the lands of the endless summer. Quentyn looked at the dark blank streets, noticing that they were not going to the temple but the large black wall that was sectioned off from the rest of the city. 

His heart was racing. He knew that there was something wrong with the section. At first there was thunder roaring in his heart and ears, then it was the soft whispers of the red women that filled his ears.

“Do you know where I sent the first three eggs I had to?” Her tone is warm and suggestive.

There was a smile pulling at her supple red painted lips as her strides were long and full of purpose, the heat grew pressurized and dangerous. Quentyn turned to look at Ser Gerris who was smiling smugly, he did not know the truth about the man that he now called cousin. He was not the only one Archibald didn’t know the truth either and that was how his father wanted it so he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to the red women’s question after all it might spell trouble for him.

But there was also this curiosity flooding his chest. He wanted to know where she put the eggs no matter how the answer might affect his men.

“Where?” Quentyn questioned

His brows threatened to raise as they got close to the gate he noticed that there were two men both of them had armor on as they stood firm by the smooth black wall that glistened with a dark power. The moment that they saw the red woman and her companions they nodded their head firmly and made it seem like they were going to let them into the separated land but then they pointed their spears firmly at their throats as Red Women moved about the men pulling their weapons from their body as her red lips were pursed as they hovered over the ears of the young prince.

“Aegon Targaryen needed them for his children the same way that these eggs are going to give to his children. I did not lie to you. I will show you where we keep our eggs.” Her voice was smug.

There was this dangerous crackle in the air as the gate began to open and the scent of sulfur flushed against their skin as they peered into the vast darkness of the forest. They walked out into the forest, their hearts pounding, and their minds numb with fear and worry. Quentyn could barely think straight as they walked in the barren darkness.

“Even with our immense power we were never able to tame the dragons we had our own and they resided here, when the dragon lords wanted a challenge they came to our forest of fire to summon one of our dragons for their own. The attempts often failed but after Valyria fail those that were left came here once more, more desperate than before. Now after 300 years of the dragon beginning long since dead, we had one dragon left and in the 300 years that the she dragon was alive. She laid for 100 eggs, many withered over time but there were auto 20 left, 3 were given to the Targaryens and one of them has already hatched and so will the others. Under the control of the Targaryens.” The red women spoke from the gate.

Her feet glided over the dirt as the men rushed through the gate keeping their cool tips pressed firmly against their backs as their hearts threatened to crawl into their throats. The darkness seemed thicker in the forest as they kept moving through the forest. Until they were in a small, absorbed cave that was shallow but well hidden. Inside were 17 eggs hidden in an array of colors, some pure colors others had whirls or accents.

Quentyn could not believe what he was seeing but when he turned around, he could see the graceful smile of the red women as she began to stalk away with the guards swirling around her.

“Once the king is ready these eggs will be his as well, and with the eggs we will give them to you as well. Until then enjoy the forest and if you can escape you are more than welcome take the eggs and escapes.” She waved her finger and before any of them could react there was a loud slamming of the gate and the dark forest swirled around them.

Quentyn knew that while the eggs might be real and while they could easily steal them, he knew that he was never going to make it out of here. Not unless it was in chains to find Aegon Targaryen. The thought forces a shudder to rush down his spine the moment that they get the chance they need to escape, or they would be as dead as his true cousins.

Stannis I

He did not know what he thought that he was going to find here but he did not think that it would be this. His mind was whirling when he first got to Ebonhead and found nothing, but he did find a bunch of false letters each one hints that a Targaryen went to a different location he knew that no matter what paper he picked up the location would be the wrong one and after begin on the hunt of a Targaryen for a year now and it was going to be coming up on two years he didn’t know how long he would be on this hunt before he would be home.

Taking in a long steady breath he looked at Qarth thinking that he would find high and mighty walls instead the gates were wide open and men were standing in the gates talking about something that must have been so important that they were lost in thought. The sky was not shining as bright as the black smoke still in the air from the battle.

Stannis had learned about the council of 13 a long time ago but now there was no council of 13. He did not see 13 men standing there but one man with pale skin tall and proud but occasionally, he could see a broken light forming in his eyes.

Stannis looked back to his men each one of them had abandoned their armor but still had their proud crowned stag on their chest as they stood firm before the walls of Qarth which were still intact but that was about it. They could see scorched roofs and broken people that were collapsed and broken in.

But there were also other people that were thrilled to be there, their eyes alive with joy. The marks of their slave collars were still around the neck, but the iron collar was gone. They had been freed but why.

There was a sneer pulling at Stannis lips he might have spent his whole life in the west but even he knew that there was something amiss of the air but they had no choice but to go forward the red waste had nearly killed them and the journey to Pentos destroyed all of their ships and they did not have any money to buy more then had no choice but to go on land and now they had to keep going or he would die. He did not much like his wife, but he wanted to see his daughter one last time. He wanted to tell his brother that the only true born children he had were his bastard. He was only one of two men that knew the truth; he did not want to die, not until his brother knew the truth.

He started to move forward even though everything screamed that he should turn back and die. In the red waste, though it was strange on the way to Qarth they ran into one of the cities that was once know as the city of bones was now named after the prince and his dragon that were born there. Sapphire city.

They notice the massive iron pipes that were still running through the dessert stand. They were long from begin finish, but the other two cities were named after the crimson dragon of Ares. Ruby city, and the third city that had the bones of massive dragons was Amethyst city. They were called the shining gems of the red waste.

Stannis staked through the red sand that was burning the soles of his feet as his back ached and he wanted nothing more than to rest in the city. The moment that he made his way to the gate he wished that he had run away. The moment that he got close to the gate; he noticed the tall thin man was not the only one that was resting in the doorway.

There was a group of men that was standing next to him impatiently leering at the thin man demanding a straightforward answer. But everything stopped when they all noticed each other, their standing firm no one knew what they were seeing until they were seeing it.

Ser Barristan the bold he was changed but the same. He had a beard that reached down to his chin and dirt littered his skin that had turned to brown from the exposure of the skin. But he had the same eyes and the same honest air about him that did not change even with his time in the black cells. But how was he here how did he know that the Targaryens were here when they barely knew.

“Grab them” A husky northern lace voice filled the air.

Before Stannis could even understand the words that were filling the air there were strong hands dressed in gilded armor holding him still. He snapped his head to the right and then the left there was this bright confusion flooding Stannis eyes as he came face to face with Benjen Stark. The man was sweating more than anyone else and Stannis knew that was because he was not used to overbearing heat year-round.

“Hey there Stannis, how's my brother doing?” Benjen spoke but he did not seem to care much about his brother.

Stannis shifted his stare to see the men that were resting behind the lord of the Bear Island to see Lord Karstark and Lord Glover were both standing firm they were the only ones there but Stannis knew that there was a whole horde of northern men hidden somewhere in the city just waiting on them. Stannis' heart launched into the throat of the storm lord man. He was fighting the urge to roar in outrage.

His whole body was rigid as he jutted his chin out a fire filling his eyes, there was a tension in the air as he refused to speak. Ser Barristan on the other hand gave him a dark look as this sneer pulled at his face and hate fluttered across his face as his shoulder shook as he fought the urge to grip tightly to his sword that was resting on his back.

“I could cut you down as easily as I could cut a cake but you will get to live, your brother sent you here to find the Targaryens and find the Targaryens you shall. We will lay you at the feet of the Targaryens and let them send a message to the west the same way that they sent a message to the east with the fall of Qarth. We leave once we replenish our stores until then enjoy the closest thing that they have to a cell” Ser Barristan's voice was cruel and brimming with pity.

He looked over to Benjen giving him a firm nod before walking off whatever he was going to do but Benjen stood firm as Stannis his smoke gray eyes were almost black with rage as he nodded his head firmly to the men that were holding down the 20 odd men that survived the wicked trip to the east with Stannis.

“We are heading out to Yunkai in a few weeks’ time there would be no point to go to Astapor by the time that we would have gotten there then they would have left. Let us save us all the trouble and just skip it going there and not finding them. There you will receive judgment and probably your death and if so be it I would happily give your head to your brother right from now I take his head and present it to my sister and her children who are your brother terrorizes.” Benjen taunted.

Uncertainty began to flood Stannis mind, Lyanna had been long since dead there was no way that he could give her his head to his sister. His brow began to furrow as he struggled to breath as a firm arm came across his throat as Benjen spoke in a smug voice.

“Oh, you didn’t hear the good news, my sister is not dead she is happily married to Rhaegar and they have three children. Your brother would not accept that and throw the realm into war, my father knew, Hoster knew, but they wanted power. Lyanna and Brandon were pawns to be used in the game of Thrones only Lyanna did play the game and the realm went to war. Now we will go to war once more. For now, you will rest in the safe of Xaros. Take him.” He waved him off.

Stannis' mind raced as he thought about his brother, did he know and just did not care, his mind was racing and slowed all at the same time. Would they be dead, or would they live through this ordeal if given the chance? Did their lives really hang on the madness of the Targaryens. 

_“Fuck me!”_ Stannis thought.

Next stop for them will be Yunkai. 


	37. The Dragons Make Their Moves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait it had been a long day and I got some stuff I'm working through but I'm still writing Yunkai and Meeren conquering are getting one chapter each. Then a few other eastern cities will be taking we will be taken and there will be plenty of time skips so the three would-be kings can meet in battle in the west.

Jon II

Small but strong, Griffin's Roost is located on a lofty crag jutting out from the shores of Cape Wrath. The castle lies surrounded by red stone cliffs on three sides, which descend into the stormy waters of Shipbreaker Bay.

The land-facing approach is a long natural ridge called the griffin's throat. The entrance to the griffin's throat is guarded on one end by a gatehouse, and by the castle's main gate and two round towers on the other end. Never did Jon think that he would be back here he thought that he would have died long before he ever reached this castle yet here he was like he had never left. They were hidden just behind the hill the vast forces of 20,000 men and massive elephants he knew right about now the Martells were rediscovering their forgotten hidden paths their ancestors during the first conquest.

Besides faded tapestries, Griffin's Roost is also decorated with arched windows displaying myriad diamond-shaped panes of red and white glass. The bed in the lord's chambers sits below a canopy of red and white velvet. As he closed his eyes, he could see that very bed wishing more than anything that he could simply walk through the courtyard and take the lands, but he knew that was never going to happen. 

The great hall contains the carved and gilded Griffin Seat where fifty generations of Connington's have ruled. A seat that belonged to him a seat that he barely got to sit in before the revolt started before he lost it all. He wanted it no more than ever he wanted to get back what was is and maybe that need to get back what is he is the reason that he was so desperate to believe that Aegon was who he said that he was. 

The east tower, the tallest of the castle's, offers a view of the surrounding countryside; he knew that they would not be able to hide for long. The castle also contains stables, armory, barracks, and a master's tower with a rookery. A secret stair beneath the sept's altar of the Mother leads to a bolt-hole, while another stair under the northwest tower goes to a hidden cove beneath the crag which appears when the tide is out. A well-provisioned garrison can hold the castle against twenty times as many men.

“Are you ready Jon to take back your home?” Aegon spoke in a cool voice. 

He knew that his griffin was having doubts, but it did not matter after they won the Stormlands, he could sit in a cell for all Maegor cared he simply needed him for now. The Martells will add more legitimacy to his calm and Jon ever could. 

‘Yes, I am” Jon spoke in a monotone voice. 

Not letting his thoughts of doubt and confusion fill his words, careful of what he said and did so that Jon would never let on that he knew that there was something amiss with the young prince. But at the moment there was something more pressing the sacking of his home he knew that he had a few nephews and nieces hiding in the walls he could only hope that they would give up without a fight or they would get hurt. 

No one is more curse than a kin slayer. With that stilling thought, he slammed his spurs into the side of his horse as the others rushed after him. The elephant would not be used in this battle not yet, after months of preparation they had some siege weapons, battering rams, and a few catapults. It was all they could make in the span of 4 months. It was all that they needed; they did not want to destroy their stronghold in the Stormlands, so they did not want to cause too much damage to begin with. 

The green rolling hills of Griffin Roost stared back at Maegor as the wind rippled through his silver hair as they descended the hill that they had been resting on for a day. They were finally ready to storm the castle and his heart was pumping with excitement, he looked to the direction of Dorne knowing that soon they would begin their hit and run attacks on the Reach.

The thunderous steps of the army filled Maegor’s ears as he looked over to the castle walls that were struggling to get manned, he knew that there were not going to be a lot of people in the castle. It would be easy to get into the castle and it would be easier to hold it and before the crown knew what hit them they would be in the capital of the Stormlands taking the lives of any remaining Baratheons in Storm's end. 

The horse neighed and pawed at the ground as they moved into a slow trot as the thick rolling green hills did not seem so bright and warm. The dew lightly covered the trampled grass as hunger filled the hearts and minds of the men that were moving through the grassy hills with each hoof there was a hammering of their heart filling their ears.

“Get the battering ram ready. Men be ready to lose your arrows.” Maegor roared.

The sight of the walls as they grew closer forced Maegor and Jon both hungered for blood and battle as well as home. The walls seemed less imposing as the battering rams moved forward. Triangular tip wooden rams greeted the men that were resting on the wall as the thick iron bands kept the battering rams attached to the wheels. There was a charge in the air as they leered at the battering ram hoping that their walls would not be broken. 

Thick black iron bars kept the door locked shut but as men screamed in pain while soldiers rushed to the wall, “Loose!!” Maegor roared. 

Jon watched as a volley of arrows came rushing at the wall like a current of shad rushing over the wall as a glimmering steel point arrow rushed over the men that were resting on the wall. The loud rumbling of wheels against the grass filled Jon’s ears as Jon looked to the wall. 

Archers struggled to get onto the battlements, sharp whizzes filled Jon’s ears accompanied by wet pops and a shadow ran over him. Jon watched as 100’s arrows were loosed sharp thunks started to fill the air.

The scent of burning wood filled Jon’s nose as a flaming arrow covered in black tar came rushing out towards him and his men. The horses reared backward as their eyes widened. Jon’s mouth grew dry and his tongue grew awkward and heavy in his mouth as my own rushing blood filled my ears. With one mighty heavy and a whack sound, Jon watched the wooden gates begin to open but on the other side that there was still a small horde of men ready to attack no matter what. 

“Charge!!!” With a loud mighty bellow, Jon screamed out

Jon launching forced the clops of hooves filled his ears as a mad grin formed on Maegor’s face. Maegor’s heart pumped with rage-inducing chemicals that raced through his entire body as he pulled his shimmering blade from its hilt. He wanted nothing more than to reduce this city to ash before the day was done but he knew that he could not because then he would have no support in the Stormlands. 

The roar of the battle was nothing compared to the roar of Jon and his men as they charged rage and hate burning in their chest as blood lust filled their shrill screams. Black smoke danced against the sky as the wind fanned the flickering flames of arrows that threatened to pierce their skin. The Stormlands knew that war was coming and there were more men in Griffin Roost than they thought. 

Someone a lot smarter than Robert remembered that Jon was a long-time friend of Rhaegar and made sure that loyal men protected these lands from the Targaryens. Something that none of them were ready for. But all the same, they would fall; an extra 2,000 fighting men were given to Griffin Roost but that did not matter when there were 20,000 men that would take them no matter what. 

Soldiers rushed through the rolling green hills into the courtyard, their feet went from slapping the soft smooth grass and soil to the hard rock ground they tried to block our entry. No longer content with watching others fight both Maegor and Jon put spurs to their horse’s side. Horses ran down the men's thick heavy crunches and began to fill Jon’s ears as he watched blood erupt from the ground where his horse's hooves slammed hard into their skull and stomachs.

Most of the men that laid before Jon were cleanly shaven with terror burning in their boyish features, their weapons were shaking as their hands trembling at the sight of the soldiers. He knew that Robert probably plucked these boys from steaming pits and small fishing villages thrusting a spear in their hands. 

They tried to seem strong letting out a mighty war roar, but it sounds like terrified little girls rather than hard strong men. Their terror whipped Jon’s men in a frenzy, but he pitied these poor boys that would now die because of Robert's foolishness. It almost made him want to spare these boys any death or harm, but this was war and there was no way that he was going to allow that. 

Jon’s armor is painted red as Jon begins to slice downwards at the boys that sat before him. The heat forced sweat to drip down Jon’s back. Taking in a deep breath he could feel his blood rushing through my veins burning his skin and threatening to pulse out of his veins at any moment. 

Jon could hear the screams of men, the painting of horses being driven too hard, the hate in men's eyes burned his skin as he looked to the foolish boys that rested before them, watching them rush toward him, he hefted his sword into the air and roared with newfound rage. 

Slicing his blade through the thin leather black armor, his blade sliced through the boy's flesh as blood erupted from his face, the right side of her face slid from her body. Thick gummy red muscles stared back at him as blood spurted from his face. The light in his eyes died as he collapsed to the ground.

Lurching forward Jon swung my blade down with all my might. Their panic cries were the last thing that Jon heard as they fell to the ground in a bloody mess. The panic shriek of terror filled the air as Jon sliced through them till there was nothing left. 

The battle ended quickly he watched as a group of people was thrown to the ground before Jon he knew the crimson hair children to be his niece and nephews there was pity filling his chest as he looked over to Maegor. He stood firm over the young children unwavering as he leered at them. There was a spark of cruelty in his eyes as he loomed over them.

“We will have you placed in cells befitting your lordship but once more the true lord of the Griffin roost your father was never meant to be here, to begin with. The true and only lord was Jon and now he will be lord once more.” Maegor roared with pride. 

Jon’s heart thunder in his chest he had his home back but for how long. 

Third Person I

Robb and Theon had been traveling to the city for a moon and now they were finally here in the city now resting contently in their private solar. He did not get time to speak with his father not now. He did not get the chance to see his father because he was too busy speaking with the Tyrells. The father and mother agreed to the match but Olena insisted on seeing him and speaking with Ned.

Robb moved off to a side table, while the tension in the air grew thick with anticipation. Theon listened to the loud slosh of wine against the glass as the purple color liquid stared back at him and forced a warm smile to pull at his lips as he watched Robb drink deeply.

Robb went from being still and cold to shaking with nerves he had never been with a girl not really so Theon knew that he was worried about the marriage ceremony and what comes after, hell his younger sister had been married to the young prince for a year and she had more sexual experience than her brother. She had her moon's blood a few months after her wedding and they had been going at it like bunny rabbits. 

At least that was what it looked like to the outside world, but every night when he crawled into their bed, the scent of burnt flesh and the scent of dead animals lingering on his breath and body. Stripping his clothes off as he fumbled under the sheets, she knew that if she denied him then she might be that stink of death in his breath. 

He never laid a hand on her; he knew that his father would take his hand long before he would let him hit his wife. Even though he did the same thing the moment that his rage got up and Cersei said something smart. But Sansa was different, Robert loved her like a daughter and would not let anyone harm her. He did not love Cersei; he never did, and he never would. 

Robb often worried that his marriage would not be anything like his father’s marriage, they were strangers when they married but soon grew to love each other. That was what Robb wanted for his marriage but would the same be said for the girl that he wanted to marry. Was this just a duty for her or did she want this marriage, who would want to live in the barren North. 

"This is unbearable. One minute we are preparing for war with the Targaryens gathering our banners after this and yet here I am, not even allowed to negotiate a truce and marriage with the Tyrells. Father thinks that could change the course of the war. We all know that they have the most crops and they have strong connections with the Targaryens. We need to have a stronger one. I understand that and yet I'm not allowed to be there” Rage and nervous energy flooded Robb's body. 

Theon laughed at Robb like he knew that Robb was a bundle of nerves whether he wanted to admit it or not they knew that around now Olena would be deciding on whether they would still be getting married. 

"Margery is the most beautiful girl in all the seven kingdoms. You are lucky." Theon spoke in a smug voice. 

Robb knew that there was a part of him that was jealous, the north treated him like the people of Winterfell belittle him and now he had to watch the boy that he knew to be his brother getting something that he wanted. A pretty bride and a new kingdom and he could not even get the one that belonged to him by blood. 

Robb’s face blushed red at the age of 15 he stilled blushed like a maiden; all Robb could think about was fumbling around in the bed making a mess of their wedding night. His heath thunder in his ears as he looked over to Theon, his watery blue eyes and easy-going smile forced Robb to calm down even if his heart was racing in his chest. 

"I've heard her grandmother is a force to be reckoned with, I hope that father can convince her that this is the right thing to do. What is she going to do? Marry Tommen, the boy is younger than Bran?” Rob spoke in a low cautious voice

He knew that the walls have ears and he never knew who was listening to their conversation as Theon nodded his head making his way over to the window as his nose began to scrunch up and his brows began to furrow. As the scent of shit drifted up into his nose, both thought that this place was nothing more than a city of steaming piles of shit. They did not understand why so many people coveted this city when it wreaked of shit and dirty homeless masses. 

"Aye, that is true if there is one thing that every man in the seven kingdoms can agree on it is watching out for that old bat. She has a sharp tongue and even sharper wit” Theon spoke as amusement sparkled in his eyes. 

The thought of the wicked old women amused him, Ned might not have been good with politics, but he was strong and unwavering; nothing would stop him from getting what he needed or wanted. If that meant that he had to a showdown with the older women then he would do anything it would take for him to win this war, Theon knew he was willing to do it. 

“I know that the Martells were not here for the war meeting or the wedding. I am sure that the Tyrells were happy about that. If we do go to war, they would be more than happy to kill them all.” Theon spoke with a bit of dark humor. 

His whole body language was smug and dangerous as he thought about the meeting that must be going on in the small council chamber between the king and his hand. 

_ In the small council chamber  _

Lady Olena is a small woman. Ned was shocked to see that she was no more than the size of a child. She had thick white hair and deeply wrinkled skin with soft yet spotted hands with gaunt thin fingers. As she came into the room, she could see the white beast that was resting at the feet of the Northern lord. 

At first, he was resting but the moment that he saw Olena something in him awakened, she could have sworn that there was a flash of white running over his stare. What they did not know was that this private meeting was not so private even now there was a young man peering through their eyes in his sleep. 

Ned could smell the scent of rosewater, but she could not hide the sour smell. It disgusted Ned but he kept that to himself as he looked over to Robert. His rage had been getting worse ever since the loss of Ser Barristan 6 months ago. He was boiling in rage as he looked over to the rest of the men that were making their way into the room. 

Standing to her right was the big oaf of a son. Lord Mace Tyrell, his bright red face, was staring at Robert and Ned, there was a sense of superior air swirling around Olena that did not swirl around the bumbling fool that she had for a son. 

"Lady Olena, Lord Mace please come in." Ned smiled warmly, or as warmly as possible 

Ned started to rise from his chair, nodding politely at both as Lady Catelyn came down from the vale to see her eldest son, and the wedding of her son and to meet her good daughter. 

"May I offer you something to drink, My Lady?" Catelyn spoke in a cordial voice in an attempt to sound polite. 

The sour old woman gave them all cold pining glares. Lord Mace stood still and mute at his mother's side, not saying a word just staying with us with a glaze over her eyes.

"No, I won't stay long. I simply needed to see for myself who my granddaughter would be marrying and to get some understanding. The Targaryens are moving through the east and have three cities under their belt and a Dothraki horde from what I hear that they even have dragons. What can you give my granddaughter besides death?” She raised an eyebrow as she looked over each one of the lords. 

Ned felt rage flooding his body but he didn't let it show, Robert on the other hand roared with hatred as he sneered at the elder woman, he was not going to play this game with her.

“You will do it because your king commands it!!! The Targaryens will slaughter their dragon is simply a rumor and any fool that chooses that rumor over us will be executed for treason right on the spot. I'll kill the lot of you right now.” Robert roared with hate. 

There would be no seeing of reason there would be no deal to be had, they will do as they are told, or they would die it was that simple. There was a steady silence like they were not sure if they should believe their king, but they could see the spark of outrage and madness that clung to his stare, the fiery hate that brimmed in his eyes. 

They knew that there was no choice in this matter they would do as they were told whether they thought that it was a good deal or not. Both simply nodded their heads as the doors open and first in came Robb. He stood before the old woman with Grey Wind as his back. The second largest of the dire wolves.

Massive and growing faster by the say they were only 2 years old and they were almost as large as a horse. His harsh golden eyes were locked on the older women. Olena saw no sign of backing down as she took in the gentle southern looks of the young boy. He was only 15 but he had broad shoulders and tall for a young man his crimson color hair flickered like fire in the golden sunlight. 

He looked far more like his Tully relatives than he did his Northern relative; she knew that at least she would not have ugly grandchildren that are probably her only saving grace. Her lips were pulled into a tight line as a grim look formed on her face as she looked over to Rob only for a moment as she spoke in a less than pleased voice.

"You look more like a boy than a man do you even know what you are supposed to do on your wedding night” Olena taunted.

She let out a bitter laugh as she looked at Ned less than pleased that she was being forced to marry off her golden rose and send her off to the harsh North to be left alone this whole time. The thought revolted her because she knew that north was only good in small doses and her granddaughter would be a prisoner. There was something in her eyes, cold and taunting, forcing rage to bubble in the chest of all men.

“Though I'm sure your sister can teach you a thing or two about pleasuring a woman.” A dark twinkle formed in her eyes as she mentioned the future Queen and her future king. One of the many things that Ned was not happy about.

Robb remained unphased and continued to smile politely even though they could all see the way that his face turned redder than his hair. 

"My Lady, my lord I might be young, but I have been training to be a leader and a warrior my whole life. I would think that I am more of a man than the original lord you planned to marry her too. Lord Renly prefers the company of men to a woman like your golden rose.” Robb spoke in a taunting voice.

Having no fear that his namesake was going to fight against him or yell at him for speaking about his brother in such a manner but Robert simply roared with laughter proud at the fire that was one of his namesakes. Seeing as how little Robert Arryn was weak and broken. 

Olena had a pleasant yet shocked expression falling on her face as she tilted her chin out as let her gaze flicker to Robert before going back to her battle of words with Robb. 

"It would be a shame if I were truly marrying my granddaughter to a Northern ass. I hope in the coming war you prove yourself-worthy to her." Olena spoke in a cool voice. 

The tension that filled the air force, Robert, to smile as he went back to his own seat at the head of the table a smug smile pulled at his lips as he added his voice to Robb’s. "So, we have a deal”

After a long moment, Lady Olena spoke with an amused twinkle in her eyes like she was enjoying all the threats that were being exchanged.

"I once thought Stark to be rather dull, but you are a lot more cunning and bold than I would have imagined. Very well then I supposed we have a deal”

It was all that she said, and they are more than a little shocked they did not think that it would have been this easy. But soon they would be at war and now they had a food source the moment that you are married they would be sent to the North as a hostage. All the while there were battles in the south and Targaryens running amuck in the east. 

Enyo IV 

The dragons were screeching with joy, but the storms had been battering the ships for a long while on what should have been a two-month journey turned to four. Enyo was over the sea if she was not vomiting because of the children that were welling in her stomach then she was puking from the nonstop rocking of the ship. 

She was not someone that had a weak stomach and she loved riding and sailing but now with her young dragon lords resting in her bodies she wanted to collapse. She had been pregnant for 6 moons and she was twice the size that Daenerys ever got. But even in her large, rounded state, her legs were still thin, her fingers were still rippled with callus, and her arms strong and sound. 

She refused to let her arms grow weak each day for at least two hours; she would swing her steel and dance across the floor bored with that same murderous grace as before. Enyo took in a deep breath as she rubbed her stomach and watched little Rhaego. He was nearly a year old, clapping his hand with joy as he watched dazzling ocean blue flames come bursting to life. 

The four-month-old dragon was sitting on a round table as Aegon threw meat up in the air leaning on the table as he watched the dragon. Dazzling blue flames darted high into the sky as the little blue dragon rushed after the meat taking off high into the sky. 

“It does not feel right leaving him with no name, Ares the crimson king, Silverwing, Balerion the black dread, Toxicana the purple queen, Eragon, and Arrax the pale shadow. Names have power. He should have one as well. Oceanus due to the color of his skin and flames. Something tells me that Rhaego won't mind you Rhaego.” Aegon smiled sweetly at his son. 

A boy of 15 in a few months he could be 16 with one child and another on the way two if the odds be good, Enyo is not vain of jealous of Daenerys in any manner but she couldn't help but hope that she did have twins, for every one son that she has. 

Oceanus newly named screech as he flew through the air with the older dragons, Ares, Toxicana, and Balerion had grown more vicious and large, they were now larger than the horse with a wingspan of 100 feet, in a month's time Enyo thought that they would be ready to ride but she would be she was pregnant and could barely stand to be on a boat how could she managed on the back of Toxicana. 

They flew next to the boat as Silverwing leaner but of the same wingspan danced high in the sky her silver scales were dazzling as her leathery skin bathed in the light of the golden sun. 

On the deck where Dany walked with Ser Jorah, Enyo could hear the words as clearly as she heard the rising and falling of the wind. All the while Balerion dive into the water forcing the water tension to build until he burst out with a massive fish the glittering of scales shimmering in the light as dazzling black flames as dark as the night's sky the scent of burning flesh had a way of calming Enyo in ways that the fresh air did not. 

“They're growing fast.” Ser Jorah spoke. 

Watching with apprehension as Dany leveled stroked the face of Balerion the way that a mother curses the face of a crying child. A warmth filled her eyes but her much like Aegon had an underlying rage at what happened to Rhaego only 4 short months ago. 

“Not fast enough. I cannot wait that long. We cannot wait that long, they tried to take Rhaego and Enyo how much longer before there was another attempt. Before Roberts spies reach us even here before trying to take our lives and take our dragons. We need an army more than just the Dothraki.” 

Balerion echoed the rage of Daenerys as she looked over to Aegon who was leaning back in the chair, this dangerous look fluttering across his face before he let out a heavy breath. 

“The cities in the red waste are doing well Daenerys, we will have three cities under our belt built by us for us. We will soon have the red waste Qarth and the rest of the cities surrounding it. That will give us the riches and resources, and the power to end the barbaric cultures in the slave cities while ripping away the power of the free cities all in one shot. Say what you want about the westerns. They will not reach us here.” Aegon spoke in a sure voice. 

Ser Jorah turned to look at Aegon nodding his head as he spoke in a smooth voice hoping to ease the panic in the heart of Daenerys as he looked out to the vast fleet of enough ships to get them to Astapor with their horde.

They did not take all the ships because they feared that they would lose money after all these are trading vessels, not war galleys. After they landed, the ships would be sent back to Qarth with fine riches to sell and trade to make further money for the Targaryen campaign. 

“We'll be in Astapor by nightfall. Some say the Unsullied are the greatest soldiers in the world.” Ser Jorah spoke in a smooth voice trying to change the subject. 

The sun seemed a little bit darker the moment that he mentioned it, there was a division between the people in the Targaryens trusted council. For once Dacey and Rhaegar agreed on something they did not have anything to do with the children. Lyanna, the ever-devoting mother, refused to side against her son. 

The knights of course sided with their current king, Aegon is not king yet now he was still just a young prince playing at begin a Khal. It was still not real for any of them, yes, he has a dragon, but he is no Aegon the conqueror just yet and he is far younger than the first Aegon.

“The greatest slave-soldiers in the world. The distinction means a good deal to some people.” Daenerys spoke harshly.

“Do those people have any better ideas about how to put you on the Iron Throne?” Ser Jorah spoke calmly.

Though Enyo could tell that he was trying to avoid his indignation for his young student, Dany’s fingers went to the hilt of her dagger as if she was thinking about something unpleasant but her outrage faded away as she began to walk up the steps pulling Rhaego into her arms as she bounced him happily. 

“It's too beautiful a day to argue,” Daenerys spoke sweetly.

A Dothraki man rushed over to the side of the railing, his skin going from a smooth sun-baked mocha to a deep green as he vomited over the railing. Rancid bile filled the air as many more puked below the deck and horses neighed nervously. There ebony hooves slamming against the wooden ground. 

“You're right. Another lovely day on the high seas.” Aegon spoke in a sarcastic tone. 

Lyra laughed as she walked up to them a warm smile on her face as she moved over to Enyo, running her hand along the large swollen stomach of her cousin.

“How are the little dragon wolf princesses doing today.” She spoke in a sweet voice as she plopped down on the chair beside Enyo. 

Daenerys rolled her eyes and looked at her husband who was mocking her, as he leaned back in his chair rubbing his brow as he smiled sweetly at his wife then his cousin and sister speaking warmly to the children. 

“Don’t mock them. They are the first Dothraki who has ever been on a ship. They followed us across the poison water. If they will do it, others will. And with our khalasar …” Daenerys spoke and Aegon simply watched her as Ser Jorah spoke warmly. 

“The Dothraki follow strength above all, Khalessi if you command them to then they will go but we will need more than horse lords to break down their walls and take what belongs to your family.” Ser Jorah spoke in a smooth voice. 

Dany let out a sigh as she looked to Enyo doing her best to change the subject, “Have you two thought about names?” 

Enyo snapped her head up as she looked over to Aegon as he smiled warmly at both his wives letting his eyes shift to Rhaego as he spoke. 

“I hope that they are girls” His comment shocked them all. 

Lyra most of all, things are different in the north but not that different. All men want a lot of sons, it seemed odd to her that he would want a daughter especially when sons lead the armies and rule the kingdom. 

“Why girls?” Lyra spoke in a questioning manner. 

The minute that she questioned Aegon there was a warmth and levity that filled the air that made them think that all the unpleasant issues about slave sliders were all but over.

“Daughters take care of their fathers when they get old if I manage to get old after this whole ordeal is long since over. They will be the ones that don’t forget me”

Enyo laughed as she spoke, “Yeah right momma's boy we all know that you will be the one to look after her when she gets old. With any luck, Rhaego will be a momma’s boy and daddy’s little prince. He will take care of you both.” Enyo giggled with a mocking word.

Aegon rolled his eyes but he could not hide the blush that was fluttering against his face as Enyo burst out into a fit of laughter before turning her sweet smile back to her sister-wife.

“Rhae and Rhaella are going to be their names if they are girls. If they are boys Matalar and Maegor, it is about time that name was put to good use. If there is one of each then Rhae and Maegor.” Enyo shrugs her shoulders casually. 

Doreah and the rest of the handmaidens were rushing over to their first Khalessi fussing about the baby and with them came the rest of their party. Dany often wondered how Enyo was not scared out of her mind. She was only 14 the same age as when Dany first was when she found out that she was pregnant, and it terrified her. So, seeing that Enyo twice maybe even three times her size how could she not be terrified. 

“Are you sure that you only have twins, I was not nearly your size when I had you and your sister, maybe there is a third little dragon hidden in there,” Lyanna spoke warmly. 

Her eyes sparkling with hope as she flutters over to Rhaego placing dozens of kisses on his face as her hair tickles him until a fit of giggles like sweet harmonious music billowed loudly into the air. Aegon let out a heavy sigh the thought terrified him, would Enyo be able to bear three children, four? 

Terror flooded his mind as he looked over to Lyra and he spoke in a smooth voice, “You don't have a fourth egg hidden in your silks.” He joked tenderly. 

But he knew that it was a chance that what his mother said was true, terror flooded his chest as he let out a heavy sigh. Was there a dragon egg hidden out there somewhere ready to hatch after a third prince or princess was born? He wished that he knew where all the eggs were, it was not that he craved power but safety and security for his family, something only a dragon could provide them. Hunger filled him with an animal needed to protect his family. 

“At any rate, it does not matter not at the moment Ghost alerted me that something was happening in the west when I slipped into his mind I saw Lady Olena of High Garden we will find no allies in them they are going to be bound in blood and marriage. Margaery Tyrell will marry Robert Stark of House Stark. She will be taken back to the north as a captive tough no one will ever say it out loud. Dany is right, dragon is full-grown or not. We cannot afford to not have an army. They are getting ready; we must be as well.” Aegon spoke in a quickened voice. 

His heart hammering in his chest as he looked over to his father walked up onto the deck, a sour look on his face that screamed I do not condone this but I will not stand in your way. There was a firm and resolute look on his face as he shifted to look at his grandson while he and his son didn't agree on the subject; they both knew that there was no time to argue about this. 

Tomorrow they would be in Astapor and they would take the Unsullied. 

Third Person II 

There was a tension to the air as they sat on their horse, Meleys was exasperated with her brother and his wife. Enyo had been experiencing pains so she stayed back on the ship hoping that it would fade. It made Aegon even less inclined to be patient; he did not want to leave her side, but he would not leave Daenerys either. 

Helios was stalking at his side, dark brown eyes filling with skepticism as he roared but words echoed his mind. 

“ _ We should just kill them and take the slaves.” Helios' husky voice filled Aegon's ears. _

“I have been wondering the same thing Helios but for some strange reason my sister is telling me that we should beg for their armies.” Aegon rolled his eyes playfully as he looked over to his sister. 

Meleys shook her head as she roared her road, her smoke gray filly, Silverwing was flying overhead letting out a thunderous raspy screech echoing Meleys rage. Ares bathed them in crimson light as Balerion flew with great speed dating ahead so that he could get to the courtyard. 

Dany rolled her eyes as she spoke in a cool voice doing her best to appease them both, “We have the money, we can buy them and free them, we do not need violence to take them.” 

Aegon nodded his head firmly, she let out a heavy breath as he rubbed his brow wearily, “Oh and how will we take the city without bloodshed, they are not going to let us simply free the unsullied and all that rested in the city. They will have heard about the cities in the red waste. Do you think that they will simply bow down?” 

Meleys felt her own exasperation filling him was now filling her as she nodded her head looking over to her mother who was smiling weakly at all of them. 

“We will buy all the slaves of the city and free them, if we solve every problem with violence, we will never earn the respect of the west. They will think of us as nothing more than savages.” Meleys spoke to her brother in the most even notice that he could manage. 

Dany and Aegon alike both looked at Meleys like she had three heads, “Do you know how much that would cost us we would bankrupt Qarth.” Aegon spoke calmly. 

Looking to the massive courtyard and manse that was coming in, Daenerys let out a sweet sigh. 

“You are both right we shouldn't use violence, but we can't simply buy every slave in the city. The moment that we do leave they will all be enslaved, and we will have stopped all four of the cities we have been building up. There has to be an even medium we will not beg but we will not be cruel either we are not Maegor.” Dany spoke in an even and tempered voice. 

While they were here Rhaegar, his knights and Dacey were in the ports and merchant squares buying supplies for the land journey the massive horde of Dothraki were settling just outside the walls ready to storm at any moment. 

“Fine” Aegon let out a heavy huff, though there was a part of them that was relieved, he was happy that they would not have to slaughter everyone.

The moment that they got close to the manse these dragons let out a fresh roar each one more unique than a man's name. When he looked up at the manse entrance, he noticed that there was a man there waiting for him and his party. 

There was a man dressed in fine tan and green silks, he has an oiled red and black beard and is so fat that Daenerys Targaryen thinks that he has bigger breasts than hers. The moment that he saw him he knew that he had to be this so-called wise master that he was. But his eyes shifted to the young girl that stood beside him. 

She has a round flat face, dusky skin, and eyes like molten gold. Although only ten, she is very strong-willed and intelligent. She has a sweet, strong voice and when she spoke, she fought the urge to shake. 

“This is Wise Master Kraznys Mo Nakloz and this one is Missandei his translator, please come this way.” She spoke in a booming voice. 

Carefully the Targaryens made their way through the courtyard as Kraznys spoke in Valyrian it sounded far more savage than their own Valyrian. They could speak it easily, so he did not understand why he had to pretend why any of them had to pretend not to hear and understand him. 

The Unsullied have stood here for a day and a night with no food or water. They will stand until they drop. Such is their obedience." Missandei spoke in a monotone voice.

The four Targaryens and Ser Jorah walk through a battalion of Unsullied warriors, standing at attention, who have made an aisle for them to pass through. Balerion slammed into the edge of the massive battalion. Thick black talons ripping into the edge of the balcony. Silverwing circles like she refused to be on the ground. Ares slammed into the railing the same as Balerion resting adjacent to him.

Roars of Arrax could be heard as the clouds parted and a pale shadow of the cream and gold dragon befell the men. All the while Eragon rested with Rhaegar at the merchants Square and Toxicana at the ships. They were all ready to battle but they were all hoping that it would not come to that.

"They may suit our needs. Tell me about their training." Daenerys spoke smoothly.

"The Westerosi woman is pleased with them but speaks no praise to keep the price down. She wished to know how they are trained." Missandei watched the way that Kraznys eyes lit up in confusion.

She knew that her master was confused about why the men were not talking. Why let the woman speak. Missandei's eyes ran over them, a young girl with brown hair and her mother not sure why they were doing with the silver Targaryens.

"Tell her what she would know and be quick about it." He waves his hand with disgust as he speaks.

Missandei nodded her head firmly as she spoke. "They begin their training at five. Every day they drill from dawn to dusk until they have mastered the shortsword, the shield, and the three spears. Only one boy in four survives this rigorous training. Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. They fear nothing…."

Her voice drained as Ser Jorah and Aegon alike let out an angry scoff. But while Aegon kept his mouth shut Ser Jorah on the other hand spoke loudly and proudly.

"Even the bravest men fear death." Ser Jorah spoke in a cool voice.

But he was wrong, Aegon did not fear his death but the death of his family, his dragons, and his culture. His life meant nothing compared to that.

"The knight says even brave men fear death," Missandei spoke in a cool voice.

"Tell the old man he smells of piss." The wise master spoke.

"Truly, master?" Missandei questions with childlike confusion. 

"No, not truly. Are you a girl or a goat to ask such a thing?" He sneered at her as he waved her off as if she were nothing more than a bug.

"My master says the Unsullied are not men. Death means nothing to them…" she looked like she wanted to speak more but was caught off.

"Tell this ignorant whore of a Westerner to open her eyes and watch…." the moment that he called Daenerys a whore Aegon's temper flare.

"You would do well to watch your mouth about my wife and queen or I'll have that tongue cut out." Fury flooded Aegon’s voice as the high Valyrian escaped his tongue before he could control himself. 

By the time that he calmed down Kraznys eyes were widening out of his socket and Ares long coiling neck now 40 feet long snapped out roaring with fury as his slit red eyes were filling with hate that Aegon couldn't show. Helios let out a roar as he threatened to kill the men. Kraznys took a step shifting his stare to Daenerys who had no choice but to smile. 

“You just couldn't give my plan a try Egg” Meleys rolled her eyes clearly annoyed with her brother but he did not care. 

Daenerys smiled sweetly at her husband before speaking in cool and coy voices.

"Please excuse my husband but you should be careful of what you say. After all, I'm sure you heard what happened to Qarth." Daenerys spoke in a warm voice.

Kraznys stilled as he shifted to look at Aegon then Meleys then Daenerys never once letting his eyes land on the Northern women. A sneer would have pulled at his lips, but he was not that foolish. He looked over to Daenerys speaking in a cool voice.

"I meant no disrespect to queen Daenerys" Kraznys spoke in a cool voice. 

Aegon nodded a cool smile pulled at his lips as he grinned easily walking as he stalked about the men Daenerys could see the way that his sword began to pulse with power as he looked over to the powerful men that stood before him. 

“It seems that you only mean no disrespect when you thought that we could not understand you,” Aegon spoke in a smooth voice. 

His eyes scanning every inch of the Unsullied as something cool befell him as a weak smile pulled at his lips as he folded his arms firmly behind his back high Valyria ready to spill from his lips at a moment's notice. 

“Finnish telling us about their training Missandei” Meleys spoke warmly as she gently prodded the girl to continue. 

There was a tension that filled the air as Daenerys nodded her head gently the same way that Meleys did both girls were trying to ease her pain as her eyes flickered to the massive dragons that were circling both the sky and the high rises of the manse. People all over the city were rushing to the manse so that they could get a better look at the massive dragons. 

Missandei looked over to her master who was shell shocked and not sure of what he should say or do. He could only gawk at them as he forced his mouth to shut down. 

“To win his shield, an Unsullied must go to the slave marts with a silver mark, find a newborn, and kill it before its mother's eyes. This way, my master says, we make certain there is no weakness left in them.” She spoke. 

Both Aegon and Daenerys blanched at his words, they just had a son together. How could either one of them be okay with dead babies, disgust flooded both their hearts. Helios snarled as he began to snap at the air around the Unsullied just like the others he had cubs and he had lost more than his fair share of cubs to the Dothraki that hunted down his mates until only he and Nala were left. 

“You take a babe from its mother's arms, kill it as she watches, and pay for her pain with a silver coin?” Daenerys spoke directly to Kraznys. 

Her voice is cold as shocked as her eyes began to darken the smooth violet eyes were almost black in color as she sneered at the men before her. How could she own them and now that they were created through the murdering of babies? The fact that her son could have been one of those babies thought forced a still fear to fill her chest as well as her husband's chest. 

"The silver is paid to the baby's owner, not the mother," Kraznys spoke as if it would be obvious.

Thought disgusted them but already Aegon was creating a plan to make sure that there would be no more dead newborns.

It was disgusting to think that children were currency. Daenerys turned to look over to Aegon and both knew that they needed to take these men for their own good.

"How many do you have to sell?" Daenerys questioned 

“8,000” Kraznys spoke in a cool voice. 

Though they could all see the glimmer of hunger that was filling his eyes as he thought about all the gold that he was about to get his hands on. 

After a long sigh, Aegon spoke in Dothraki, “Aggo bring the gold”

They moved in fluid motions dancing across the round until three massive chests of gold were laid at Kraznys feet. A hunger flooded him as Daenerys pokes in a cool voice.

“Missandei will be your gift to us proof of a bargain well struck,” Daenerys spoke with smugness in her voice as she looked over the men that were waiting to find out who their next owner would be.

Kraznys did not pay them the least bit of attention as he watched his golden running his fingers through the massive chest, the glimmering of gold flooding against his face. Missandei bowed proudly as she looked over to Daenerys.

“What we say now stays with is not to be translated,” Daenerys spoke in a firm voice as Aegon walked over to his wife.

A grim look on his face as he spoke, “you don’t want a bloodbath and I get that but we both know that they are going to simply let them keep killing children” 

Meleys knew that they were right as an idea popped into her mind, “So make an example of one and the others will fall in line. Kraznys is the richest, the slave markets are in full swing right now there is no better time than now to do it. Take his head in front of them all and they will bow. We keep the bloodshed to the minimum and hope that the next city can be reasoned with.” The thought of reason forced Aegon to laugh.

They will not give up on their greatest source of income, but he knew that going to war and killing everyone is not an option and it was not something that he wanted to do. He reserved his cruelty for his enemies, not the poor and downtrodden that were forced into lives that they were never meant to live but the truly wicked and evil they are the ones that need to be punished so they would be.

“Very well Mel we will try it your way. Daenerys you are better with speeches. I leave the honors to you.” Aegon smiled sweetly filled to the brim with love.

“Unsullied! You have been slaving all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. I give you my word. Will you fight for me? As free men?” Daenerys roared with power as Aegon nodded at Ser Jorah.

One Unsullied begins tapping his spear rhythmically in the sand. Soon others join him, and more still until the sound becomes thunderous and unanimous. Ser Jorah gripped tightly to the man's wrist pulling it behind his back until it twisted behind his back.

He was cursing in Valyrian wondering what was going on.

“Take the gold back we leave at Dawn.” Aegon was smooth and warm as he grinned at Master Kraznys.

“We're going to market,” Aegon taunted as the dragons took flight with thunderous claps of their wings, the ground shook, the air rose with power taunting the master thought he was going to be dead and haunted him.

Kraznys fought against Jorah’s grip trying to make sure that he escaped screaming at the top of his lungs to stop them but the masters were forced to stand still as Silverwing and Arrax roared with hatred daring them to move.

The walk to the Market felt like a death march for the wise master, the roar of the crowds filled the air as Ser Jorah dragged the man across the selling stage. The moment that he was forced to his knees all quiet down with a serious roar of 4 dragons. The whole roaring and selling of slaves came to an end.

Aegon roared at the top of his lungs as Missandei translated in many different languages, “We have free the Unsullied and still they have chosen to follow us. Slavery is a cruel and vile concept that the ancient Valyrians created and it is something that we will now get rid of. This man trains men turning them into monsters letting them kill babies with no care for their lives or the lives of the mother that the children are stolen from. I will not let this practice continue. We will end it today. My sister has advised me that violence is no way to rule. I saw it as the only way that the wise master knows, but I am willing to show that I am not the cruel monster that they are. Instead of taking 8,000 lives for the 8,000 lives of babies, I will take one life instead. His” Aegon pointed at Kraznys.

There was a darkness that fluttered over the open hall as Aegon looked out onto the face and noticed that his father and his knights were resting at the back of the merchant square barrels and bags resting in a massive cart. The other slave masters were rushing to the front of the pedestal ready to dethrone the king. But the murderous roar of Helios shook the ground and the air as the thunderclaps of wings filled the air.

Missandei translated with ease as she looked over to her king waiting for his next words; her worried golden eyes could sense a fight brewing in the air but Aegon simply pulled Blackfyre from the scabbard as he continued to speak.

“To all the slaves of this city, I free you, to all the slave masters I give you a choice. Join me or join him. Ser Jorah holds him down.” Aegon spoke in a final voice.

The slaves were still in silence, not sure of what they were seeing or hearing but a wave of hope fluttered across their face as the slave master fought to the front only to be greeted by the blood riders of the might Khal and Khaleesi.

Aegon stood over Kraznys whose eyes were wide with doubt as he screamed the same thing repeatedly. Kill them.

The Dothrak stood at their backs, blank eyes of obsidian, green, blue, brown, and gold all locked on the king and his queen. A steady silence filled the air as Aegon looked down on the man before tears streaming down his face as he cried out in panic. With a quick swing of his sword, there was a soft splash and a heavy thud and crunch like bones snapping beneath the teeth of Helios. Kraznys fat head slammed against the ground dancing down the steps. 

There was a silence that was so loud that you could hear a pin drop, there was hatred filling the eyes of the slave masters then a weakness as the crimson flood rushed down the slick ivory steps. Aegon slammed his foot into the body of Kraznys watching the fat lard tumble off the platform right in front of the feet of the slave masters as the blood lords danced out the way.

“Slave masters join him or join us!!! Death or life in banishment your choice. Either way I will not have you in this city enslaving all the slaves my family has freed. The choice is yours but Astapor belongs under the protection of the Targaryens.” Aegon spoke and Daenerys stepped forward.

Resolution filled her violet eyes as she roared, “My husband is right, you are freed, and we will not stop till all the slave cities are free. Until all your people…no until our people are free. Stand with us and you will never be owned again you will truly be free to go where you want in the east or the west with no fear of slavery. Stand by us and you will live long and propose lives free of tyrants. We will break the wheel that has been running over you. It will be our oppressors forced under that wheel.” Daenerys spoke with honey silk words and confusion.

At first there was silence then snarls and curses from the slave master then the cheers of the slaves each one of them chanting with pride and power they had Astapor next was Yunkai and Aegon knew that there was something more than just a fleet waiting for them in the yellow city.


	38. The Blackfyre Makes His Move

Tyrion III

Thunder boomed with deafening claps as blue lightning streaked across the sky, the bolts occasionally slamming into the black water, lightning currents lit up the water, dancing on the surface and killing any life unlucky to be just beneath. The wind howled fiercely as the ice-cold water pelted Tyrion’s face, his eyes burning and stinging as salt-filled them. The deck grew slick beneath his feet as the creaks and groans of the rigging filled the night. 

Once more he was left to wonder why his father sent him here. He could have sent sailors, he could have sent warriors, instead, he chose a man that he thought of nothing more than a little lecherous imp. Why him? He had been pestering Addam each time that they had a moment alone. He knew why, he could tell each time that Addam gave him a dark pitying look. 

Commands were shouted through the air as people shrieked, orders lost to the wind as the thunder boomed louder, suddenly it felt like the world was shaking when the black night lit up as screeches of an unearthly beast filled Tyrion's ears. He swore that it sounded like a dragon roaring but he knew better than that. 

Terror threatened to grip him, but Tyrion forced himself to harden his heart and gripped tightly to the railing, hanging on for dear life as he shook violently with the ship. His feet flying off the deck as his chubby little fingers were gripping at the metal railing of the small war galley. 

Tyrion focused on the captain at the helm who was talking with Addam as he fought his way up to the wheel. They knew that they had to do something quickly or they would all die. They had passed Valyria on the way to Astapor and they knew that something was amiss. Tyrion struggled to keep his eyes open as the storm raged on. 

The sails ripped from the force of the wind as the sailors struggle to get the canvas sails down and the others out. The boat rocked as Addam stumbled up the stairs to the helm, almost sightlessly as Addam could barely see a few feet in front of him the light fading as the night turned deep black from the rain. 

Addam screamed but all he could hear was the roar of the wind as he felt the rumbling in his throat, he tried to speak but still, thunder boomed as the lightning cracked like a whip, nothing but the rumble in his chest told him that he was speaking. 

The captain didn't even seem to see Addam or the little Lannister that was half hanging off of the railing until the boat lurched left and then right shaking the men from their perches only for some to fall to their deaths. A few managed to grip the rigging and slide down to safety but others fell without a rope to grab onto.

Slamming against the decks or worse falling in the ocean, to the left and right Tyrion could see the other ships having just as much trouble as the terrified screams of the men filled his ears. Tyrion could see the shore at least he thought that it was at the shore, but it was really a delusion created by a terrified mind. 

The bass of the thunder made it seem like cannon fire as Addam finally reached the helm and gripped the railing with fear for my life. The wind whipped his hair into his face until he saw nothing but the coast of gold. Anxiety hammers in his chest and coils tightly in his stomach and all Addam could think was that he was not going to die on some bloody ship.

He knew that he had to kill Tyrion, Tywin made that clear when he pulled him aside before leaving for the trip, he knew that he was here to hunt down and kill Rhaegar but it was more than that. It was killing Tyrion as well; he had shamed his family more than enough times, Tywin would take no more shame on the name of the Lannisters and he would put an end to him once and for all. 

He felt pity for the imp he did not do anything wrong but be born, if he were not an imp and he acted the same way his father would have been more inclined to forgive him. Jamie tested his father's patience more than a few times and Tywin never ordered a hit on him, but Tyrion is stunted and now he must die for that. It forced a great sense of hate to fill his chest, Addam was a proud knight, not a sellsword. But now he had to deal with this, and nothing was going to change that. 

Maybe this storm was intervention by the gods, Tyrion knew the inner workings of Casterly rock and all the secrets and lords that the Targaryens would need to truly take over. Maybe the gods wanted Tyrion to meet them and find out the truth that his father and sister both want him dead and this was the way to do it at the expense of what little honor that he has left 

Hysterical thoughts of gods and dragons filled Adam’s mind as he did his best to move his hair out of the way, the rain poured against Addam hitting his skin like armored arrowheads, his clothes soaked. Nausea rolled over him as his body began to shiver. The cool wind sent a bone chill right through him, only when the lightning strikes could he see Tyrion. 

Clinging to dear life it would be a simple thing to push him over the side but the desperation that filled his eyes made Addam think twice about killing him. Someone that is desperate to live should get the chance right.

Bombs exploded in their ear as Addam and Tyrion were flung from the ship as a thunderous blue bolt as if a god had sent it from heaven slammed into the middle of the ship forcing the deck to splinter apart. 

_ After the ship capsized. _

Slowly Tyrion's eyes began to open, for a moment it was nothing more than swirling darkness that never seemed to stop. A Sharp pungent smell slammed against Tyrion's senses, his mind growing fuzzy like he was still in the storm. Water surged around him as he clung to the wood struggling to float as he looked over to Addam confusion filling his mismatched eyes. 

They had been floating here for days struggling to stay afloat as their stomachs threatened to tear each other apart. Their lids were starting to grow heavy as they fought the urge to give up and drown. They were floating somewhere in the narrow sea, but they could not know where they wanted to give up and die but they were too stubborn or too foolish to do so. 

“Why are we here?! Why am I?! I don't get it why would my father send me instead of Jamie” Tywin called out to the sky.

His oily black and pale green eyes stared back at Addam; he knew that they were both going to die so who would it hurt to tell him the truth? Neither one of them was going to make it out of this alive so he shifted his stare to the horizon. There was a black speck off in the distance that allowed Addam to clear his mind as he spoke. 

“He sent you here to die, you shame your family he didn't want you living any longer, you would go to the east like your uncle and you would not make it back like your uncle. At least that was the plan, this was as much as killing you as it was the Targaryens” Addam spoke in a rather reluctant voice. 

The moment that Tyrion heard the truth resolve filled him along with bitter hatred as if it were not bad enough that his father had him marry a whore and then give her away to his men. Even after he was forced to work on the sewers of Casterly Rock and worked hard to open the other mines quickly his father saw him as nothing more than a monster. If his mother had not died, he knew that this would have never happened to him; his father might have loved him more if his mother was alive. 

Suddenly a resolve to live filled his chest; he would do whatever he had to do to prove that his father was wrong. A sneer pulled at his lips as he looked over to Addam he wanted to curse and scream at him, but he knew that it would take more energy than he had. He knew that they might die but he knew that it had been planned that way from the start; he never meant to make it home to his wine and whores. 

He wanted to roar with hate, but this foul stench came off the air as the bright blue sky seemed a little brighter as the golden rays of the east slammed harshly against his skin. When he looked over to the horizon the same way that Addam was. Only the speck was now a large blob, then after a few moments, it took the shape of a ship with cruel hard men resting on the deck. Tyrion does not know who they are, but he had hope. 

“That's not good,” Addam spoke with dread oozing in his voice. 

Tyrion did not understand why it was such a big deal they were safe but that meant that Addam failed his mission. The thought was almost amusing until Addam spoke with a darkness in his eyes that told him that this was a fate worse than death. 

“It's a slave ship you can tell by the smell” Addam spoke as he almost looked like he would have rather died at sea. 

All their men had died in the shipwreck they were the last ones left would they even make it out of this alive. 

Once they were on the ship they were chained and forced below deck where they saw a newly caught slave much like them. A girl with smooth pink cheeks, thick curly warm-brown hair, a heavy brow, and a squashed nose. Her brown eyes are large and trusting. She was a dwarf much like Tyrion, but she was not a noblewoman he could tell by her demeanor, but he spoke to her with a cautious voice. 

“Where are they taking us?” He questioned in a smooth whisper. 

Addam collapsed on the ground like he did not care where they were going, it was over with and done for they would spend the rest of their lives as slaves unless something drastic happened. The short little girl looked over to Addam then Tyrion before finally peaking in a broken voice. 

“Yunkai to the slavers market” Her voice is small and timid. 

She looked down at her feet as a sense of loss and grief hung heavy in the air as she looked over to Tyrion who proposed to her yet another question. “Why not Astapor isn't it closer to here” 

Again, her head dipped as for a moment she simply looked down at her feet, her knees pulled tightly to her chest as she rested her head on her kneecaps. 

“The Targaryens took over Astapor and ended slavery there, even the slave ship that comes into port is searched, the slaves freed, and the slavery sent away. They have not made it to Yunkai yet so that is where they are going. They are going to make a quick buck over us before they get there. They say some of the wise masters are gathering their slaves and leaving for the time they are going to leave and once the Targaryens have felt they are going to make their way back to the city and reclaim what is there.” The young dwarf girl spoke calmly. 

The moment that she spoke Tyrion stilled so the only thing that is standing between them and a life of slavery is the Targaryens the very people that they have been hunting down for the past couple of months. 

“My name is Penny by the way.” She smiled sweetly at Tyrion. 

He nodded his head firmly as he spoke. 

“I'm Tyrion, this is Addam. It is nice of you.” Tyrion spoke but he was not thinking clearly. 

All he could focus on was his own death and the Targaryens that are hidden in the east who know how long they would be living for. 

* * *

Viserys IV

His skin was raw, the lash left permanent marks left on his soft skin, every nerve ending was on fire as he sat in his tent. During the day, his life was fine but at night it was like every part of him died. Every man that worked for the master would use him, some of them were gentle and kind but on the worst night, he would bleed from every hole in his body. His limbs were broken and healed a thousand times over again. 

Shit was flung at him as they called him the king of shit, then taunted him and broke him down with each harsh word and treatment. He was a shell of his former self far more passive than before, it took a lot longer for him to get angry and when he was angry he never acted on it not like before he had been enslaved for nearly a year. 

He did not know how much longer that this was going to last but there were rumblings in the camp that Yunkai was no longer safe and that the Targaryens were marching their way here. They had freed the slaves of Astapor and cast out all the slave masters. They rushed to the wall of Yunkai begging for their help. 

Yezzan was a fat dumb pig but even he knew when to cut his loss he gathers up his horde are having them moved out of the city for the next couple of days just until the Targaryens come through. Then he had the rest of the masters that were smart enough to leave and take the city back. The thought that Viserys was so close to beginning to be freed filled him with grief. The thought forced his heart to grow heavy. 

Now Yezzan was at the slave markets picking up some last-minute slaves before he started to make his way toward Meeren to be hidden away in the sands for a few weeks, maybe even a few months. Viserys could only be filled with fear and terror at the thought of seeing his family again. His nightmares were filled with the easy-going smile of Aegon right before he sent him to rappers. There are other times that he would dream of Arrax filling his mind but each time that he connected a flash of heat would flush against him as he was forced away from the pale dragon. 

A heavy sigh left Viserys lips as he rested in the warmth of the sun knowing that at the moment he was fine, he looked down to his arms to see spirals that moved up from his hand to his shoulder blades from times when he tried to stop the whip from lashing at his skin. Yezzan's man nerve acted during the day but he knew that at night when the fat fool passed out and pissed all over himself Viserys was fair game. 

He knew that it was twisted but he hoped that whatever slaves that they brought home would be the new victim of the men. His heart was racing in his throat when the fat fool made his way back to the camp there was something smug about his face as he looked to be floating on air the fat fuck was followed by three new slaves. 

Two were dwarfs and while the women dwarf was nothing to Viserys the man that was beside the little dwarf girl a dwarf himself was far more important his eyes widened as he took in the form of the dwarf. 

He was a dwarf, with stubby legs, a jutting forehead, mismatched eyes of green and black, and a mixture of pale blond and black hair. His unique stare has been said to make most people uncomfortable, but it was that stare that told Viserys exactly who he was. Tyrion Lannister, there was a sneer pulling at the lips of Viserys the first thing that he wanted to do was wring his little neck, a sneer pulled at his lips he wanted to lunge at the small man but he knew that would only hurt him rather than help him. 

He shifted to the man that stood at full size and much like the two dwarfs his eyes widened the moment that he noticed Viserys silver hair and lilac-colored eyes. This man was rangy, with shoulder-length dark copper hair. He had the air of a noble might about him but Viserys knew that there was no such thing as a noble knight not any longer. 

“A Targaryen?” Tyrion spoke with utter dismay 

Confusion flooded his mind as he looked over to Viserys who was simply sneering at him, he might have been broken down but not so much that he wouldn't hate the Lannister for all that they have done to his family. A sneer pulled at his lips he might have attacked them if not for the watchful eye of Yezzan. 

“Lannister and one of his dogs” Viserys spoke in a hollow voice not letting his rage show as he leered at the new addition leaning into his chair that he was sitting in as his mind went blank. Any other time he might have thought about how he could use them to get back in with his family.

But he lost that drive a long time ago now he was just thinking about ways to survive and end the torture of his slavery. Taking in a long steady breath he watched the way that Addam looked down at the boy before sitting himself the collar and jingle of bells filled their ears. Tyrion did not know what he was seeing like a broken beast abused for too long and did not have the energy to fight back any longer. 

“Viserys?” Confusion filed Tyrion's voice. 

His legs were cramping and stiff as he dropped to the ground and ignoring, Viserys looked over to the other little girl who did not see all that important; he barely looked at her as he spoke in a cold voice. 

“Tyrion Lannister, what are you doing here?” Viserys questioned in a low voice. 

Snapping his head over his shoulder to make sure that Yezzan walked off to his tent, there was a sneer pulling at his lips as he shifted his stare between the black and pale green stare of Tyrion to the dark eyes of the silent knight. 

Tyrion much like Viserys looked over his shoulder to the knight, a sneer pulling at his lips as he began to speak in a murderous and hate-filled voice. 

“My father sent me here to die this fine knight behind me to kill both you and your family and me as well. I figure that I would go to the Targaryens and turn Addam over and ask to support them in their takeover of the west.” Tyrion's voice was calculating and smug as he looked over to Addam. 

Daring him to say no but the man smiled as he looked over to Viserys knowing that there was a spark of Targaryen madness in him. The moment that he tried to speak to Tyrion spoke, no giving Addam a chance to speak out against him. 

“What are you doing here? I thought that the Targaryens were taking over the east?” Tyrion spoke in a smooth question voice. 

Confusion filling him as he looked over Viserys he looked broken as he slumped into the chair, his brows dip like he was not sure what to tell them or how much to tell them. He heard rumors of Qarth and Astapor about the hordes that they conquer Vaes Dothrak and the cities in the red waste falling one after the other to the might and power of Qarth. 

He never thought much about the conquest until he found that the very people that sold him into slavery were the very people that were now ending it. There was a twisted irony to that, as he looked over to Tyrion Lannister who was now a slave with him staring out at the very knight that he was told to kill before getting himself killed. 

“I'm here as a punishment, I was a monster, beating and belittling my sister and finally her husband had enough of me, I should be lucky that I didn't become dragon food. The Targaryens might be taking over the east, but I am not one of those Targaryens. If you were hoping to find them then you are out of luck. We are moving towards Meeren. The Targaryen are on their way here right now to end the slavery of this city. They should be here in a matter of a month or two. We are leaving in a few hours. A few of the smarter slave masters are going with us. If you plan on seeing my family, you better hope that their next stop on the tour is going to be Meeren.” Viserys spoke in a monotone voice. 

He looked up to the sky as Tyrion felt confused. What is Viserys talking about dragon food? Dragons have been long dead when he looked over to the sky much like Viserys. As if he expected dragons to part through the clouds and dive through the camp burning them until there was nothing left. 

“Dragons are long dead” The noble knight finally spoke. 

The minute that he spoke Viserys let out heavy bitter laughter as he looked over to the sky in the direction of the Astapor. 

“You will learn soon enough when we get to Meereen there is a manse there that Yezzan owns, that is if we ever get there. His health is failing and it's taking longer and longer to get around.” Viserys let out a heavy breath. 

They would make their way to Meeren while the Targaryens made their way to the golden city, hopefully, they could catch up to them and soon. They need to know that the Lannisters are making moves and quickly. 

* * *

Joffrey I

Robert leaned back on this throne he knew that it would hurt him but he didn't care, ignoring the blades of the throne as they deep into his back, cutting up his arms and the back of his head. He was watching his son Joffrey who was speaking with a warm and loving smile pulling at his lips, but he did not fool his father. 

He could tell by the lack of warmth in his eyes the same look that he used to give Joffrey’s mother before he gave up on keeping the appearance of love on his face. Joffrey had a hand resting on the hip of his wife as Lady the sweet-tempered wolf sat off to the side. Watching with curious golden eyes. 

Robert was listening to the complaints of the men and women alike as Joffrey watched as lords and ladies in both formal attire and armor glaring at his father with hate-filled eyes as the realm's most prominent lords and ladies from the allied kingdoms stood before him. They knew that something was wrong, the wardens had come and gone for another wedding and as lady Margery escaped to the North or so they thought there was so much going on and something was missing. 

There were whispers about Rhaegar Targaryen begin alive Joffrey himself was filled with confusion and doubt he didn't know that Rhaegar was alive until he heard the whisper from the Hound who was standing off to the side much like Joffrey watching the lord and ladies of the realm speaking with their king. Ned stood off to the side mute as Ghost rested at his feet watching the people walk up one right after the other. 

Sansa was smiling sweetly just as in love with her prince as ever during the daytime and at night she ignored his monstrous side that would sometimes scare her when he came back from torturing animals. The thought that Lady might be one of those animals terrified her as she steadied her breathing at the thought. Shifting her stare to Robert much like the others. 

Sitting just below the throne is the table of the small council, though all of their eyes were locked on a boy who threw open the door watching as a boy of 20 years old with cool sparkling blue eyes and bright red hair came in painting with panic and fear in his stare. 

Robert leered at the young man as Joffrey looked over to see Bran and Arya, both children and their dire wolves that were once leaning against the columns of the throne room bored out of their minds, were suddenly intrigued by the sight of the panic boy. Even Robert whose head was resting on his palm bored out of his mind seemed more than interested in what was going on.

“Your grace I come here to beg for your help, my uncle Lord Jon Connington, that was exiled to the east is back, he took back his seat and with him a boy that he was passing off as Aegon Targaryen. I managed to escape from Griffin Roost when the attack started, and I witnessed a silver-haired boy with violet eyes walk into Griffin roost. They took my home, lands and had the entire golden company at his back. He rides for Storm’s End. I ask that you let me take a host and I will bring you back to my uncle's head and this supposed dragon king as well.” A red-haired boy rushed to speak. 

Nervous whispers filled the air as Robert looked ready to roar with hatred when Mace came rushing into the throne room hatred filling his watery eyes as his red face was red for panic and fear not because of drink or old age. His eyes were filled to the brim with hatred as he looked over to Robert. 

“Sir I hate to interrupt but there is a situation in the reach” Mace spoke in a quick voice. 

Joffrey’s heart quickened as his mind rushed and he looked to the red hair boy then the fat man trying to figure out which one of them was lying and which one of them was telling the truth. Hatred flooded Robert's blood as venom filled his mouth as he ground his teeth trying to keep the murderous words from spewing from his lips. 

“What happened?” Robert spoke in a steel-like voice. 

Joffrey looked over to Mace as he shifted his stare to the Direwolf around the room then the king as if he said the wrong thing his new animal would rip him to pieces. 

“Horn hill is under attack from the Dornish; they are flying the Targaryen flag.” 

Shocked whispers filled the air as Robert roared with a fury that forced Joffrey to flinch as Robert shifted carefully in his seat as he looked down to the Stormlands lord, hate burned in his sparkling blue eyes.

An uproar of complaints drowned out any sound that might have left Roberts's lips this whole thing is messy fear coiled tightly in Joffrey’s chest making it impossible for him to think. War was only fun when it was far from him but now it seems like the battle is starting in earnest. 

“Enough all of you, Mace gather your host and march to Sunspear and lay them to waste. Jamie, commander of the Kingsguard, will muster the Lannister host and go to the Stormlands with Lord Cognition. This dragon king if you can even call him that is a no Targaryen but a Blackfyre, all he has is the brat with 20,000 men and one kingdom. We are united and they are one kingdom led by a child.” His tone loud and booming as his rage cut through the tension. 

Joffrey watched the men move as Ned hardened as hate-filled his eyes as he looked over to Robert whispering in a low voice as the throne room started to empty out 

“We need to be prepared for them hitting us next,” Ned spoke in a cool voice. 

All the while Joffrey's mind rushed to the Reach wondering what was going on. 

* * *

Lord Randyll Tarly I

A flash of annoyance overcame Lord Randyll. It had been weeks since the marriage of Margery to Robb Stark, he wanted his son to marry the young woman, but it looks like the North got a second southern flower. Dickon stood firm at Randyll’s side both not saying a word. 

But both knew that war was coming. They heard about the attack on the Stormlands from the Blackfyre boy trying to pass himself off as a Targaryen. They knew better the real Targaryens were hidden in the east, taking over each city-state and landmass at a time. 

Randyll could taste the bile that began to rise in the back of his throat, Randyll looked up from my venomous filled thoughts to the land that rested just outside of Horn Hill. A fog was rolling over the ground as the sun slowly started to creep across the horizon. First, it was just an empty field, but they melted from the forest and the shadows.

Massive black rocks silk with oil and tar flew darting out from the forest the catapults could not be seen but there were battering rams rushing out of the forest. A few men came out of the woods than a few thousand more and more until there were Dornish spears rushing against the eponymous hill. 

Oiled rocks soared overhead slamming against the walls, Randyll screamed at the top of his lungs getting his men ready as a thunderous bell began to echo over the air. Men struggled to all their eyes bleary as they gripped at their bows but the Dornish would be on them in a matter of minutes the rumbling of wheels filled the air as the battering rams moved. Their arrows were knocked but they were far from ready off in the distance watching as oiled rocks and seized weapons surge forward was none other than Oberyn Martell a smug smile on his face as he watched his men get ready to ravage one of the few lands in the reach that knew how to fight. 

The chaos that swirled around the battlefield filled Randyll ears, panic screams filled the air as the men loomed below glimmering golden and red banners, and the black and red fluttered in the wind. There were thunderous booms echoing in the air as the things began to groan and creak as the door would give way at any moment.

With a loud roar, men rushed through the fields and the panicked neighbors filled Randyll's ears as I looked to see the crazed horse running around. Their thick manse whipping in the wind as the gate gave way with a thunderous shake.

Randyll’s heart thundered in his chest he knew that he would have to go onto the battlefield, Lord Tarly rushed down the steps of his wall his men were cold and hard but tired. They had waited all night and now that morning has come, and they can barely keep their eyes open. 

Randyll and his men gripped tightly to their leathery reigns as he noticed the young men, their dark and light color eyes filling with hatred and power. The air grew pressurized as panic screams filled the air as flaming rocks slammed hard into Horn hill. Cries of women that Randyll knew to be his wife and daughters. 

The sounds of anguish and pain filled the air as Horn hill men rushed out into the open green field, his ears as the scent of burning flesh and hair filled his nose, black smoke billowed into the sky blocking out the bright blue sky. Randyll could hear men screaming as the singing of steel began to echo in the air.

The furious roars shook the ground, thousand thundering screams of men as they rushed through the burning fields. Randyll could see the way that they moved through the gaping black smoke. I took back up towards the sky to hide in the cloud. 

Randyll lurched forward a coldness filled his body as his body grew rigid and murderous. Smoke swirled around him from the flaming rocks, but he did not choke on it, he slashed and hacked every enemy that stood before me. 

Blood erupted as he slashed and hacked away at heads, body parts, and organs alike. Fury filled his body with power and as he ran through the smoke drenched battlefield. His body felt heavy but as a wave of bloodlust and euphoria washed over him a sense of purpose filled him. Randyll continued to fight as blood splashed against his face as Hearts bane bit deep into the flesh that rested before me with a sickeningly green glow around the blade

The ebony hooves ripped apart the ground as blood dripped from the ebony hooves as Randyll growled with excitement. Hate-filled the deep brown eyes of the Dornish men. Then just like that, they were gone, the fields were on fire black smoke blocking out the sight of the Horn Hill men. Hooves thunder against the ground but while they heard the noises, they did not see the ground or the people, but Randyll knew what they were doing. Taking a page out of the history books, hit, and run tactics like the Martells from the conquest days.


	39. The Golden City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait it got longer than I expected, one more free city then there is going to be a few time skips, and the war with the Blackyres will also go on for a little bit before the Targaryens get there and set them all straight.

Daenerys X

It had been a long two months since the journey by foot took longer than they had thought it would. Their bodies and minds were exhausted and Enyo in the final moments of her pregnancy was exhausted and could not stay on horseback for long let alone in a cart. Every bump in the road hurt her and Aegon refused to leave her side knowing that at any moment she would give birth and the larger she got the more worried he was that she wouldn't make it out of the birthing bed.

The dragons had grown fast; they had a wingspan of 130 feet, and they were large enough to ride but not for long times. Aegon did not dare take flight not with fear and worry, filling his heart and Ares only grew more unruly, snapping and snarling burning flocks of sheep and never leaving the side of Aegon. The two of them worried more about Enyo than the conquest. 

Daenerys could not blame them; she was just as worried, but she was more worried about the entire east that wanted them dead. After all, they were ending the most lucrative business in the eastern world. They had more things to worry about than the birthing bed, Enyo was a true dragon lord Daenerys had no fear that she would die, she would make it out of this alive and she would ride Toxicana into battle. 

So here Daenerys stood with Ser Jorah and Grey worm walking across the rocky and arid landscape. An impressive city lies in the distance among the mountains. Yunkai, also called the Yellow City, is one of the Slaver Cities on the eastern coast of Slaver's Bay in central Essos. Ruled by the Wise Masters much like Astapor but unlike Astapor they did not train the world's best soldiers but bed slaves. It is said to be a disreputable place Yunkai is also referred to as the queen of cities, a title also claimed by Qarth and they felt with ease the same could be said with Yunkai.

The Yunkish emblem is a variation on the harpy of Old Ghis: a woman's torso, wings of a bat instead of arms, legs of an eagle, and a scorpion's tail. Its talons grasp a whip and an iron collar. Daenerys knew that they would not be as inviting as Astapor; they knew what they were coming for and they would not let them have it no matter what. 

Yunkai is made of yellow bricks, with crumbling walls, towers, and tall stepped pyramids. A great harpy is mounted above the city's gates. The highborn warriors of Yunkai wear linen skirts and tunics dyed a deep yellow and cloaks sewn with copper disks. Daenerys did not fear them, not with a Dothraki screamer at her back and six dragons and the unsullied. 

They oil their hair and twist it into towers and shapes, and wear tall helms to preserve the stylings it is the dumbest thing that Daenerys ever heard let alone seen her fingers were tracing the leather hilt she was not a warrior as long as the man even she knew that was the dumbest thing ever.

It is just more of a target for them to hit but there they were manning the wall all the same while horse and men rode in front of the wall. Yunkai can field an army of roughly five thousand men, all slaves. Which made her even less inclined to worry. 

“Yunkai. The Yellow City.” Ser Jorah spoke in a cool voice.

Looking over every inch of the city Ser Jorah continued to speak occasionally, letting his eyes flicker to the thick heavy white clouds that were growing whispery by the minute. From the power of Balerion wings clapping against the air whipping up the clouds. 

“The Yunkish train bed slaves, not soldiers. We can defeat them. On the field, with ease. But they will not meet us in the field. They have provisions, patience, and strong walls. If they are wise, they will hide behind those walls and chip away at us, man by man.” Ser Jorah spoke in a cool voice. 

“I don't want half my army killed before I've crossed the Narrow Sea.” The thought revolted Daenerys that she did not want her people dying for one city. 

But she didn't think that it was right that they should have to die either, worry ate away at her mind as her fingers began to thrum against her thigh as she thought rationally and calmly doing her best to stay calm. 

Ser Jorah smiled weakly as he shifted to see Rakharo in the months that they began their journey his braid got longer, and his bells grew more and more, and he was not the only one. More braids decorated Daenerys hair from many victories. The soft ringing of bells could be heard as the wind rippled through their hair. 

“We don't need Yunkai, Khalessi. Taking this city will not bring you any closer to Westeros or the Iron Throne.” Ser Jorah spoke carefully and slowly as Grey Worm stood mute at their side but he could see the flash of outrage that flared in Grey Worm's eyes at the thought of leaving slaves to the mercy of their master. 

“How many slaves are there in Yunkai?” Daenerys asks with curiosity cocking her right brow up.

“Two hundred thousand if not more.” Ser Jorah spoke 

“Then we have Two hundred thousand reasons to take the city” Daenerys spoke in a warm voice as she shifted to look at the grey worm.

Grey Worm has no facial hair, though the hair atop his head is short and brown. He is stocky, of medium height and square. He has a serious-looking face, on the edge of solemnity. The Unsullied do not display much emotion. He is young, in his late twenties.

“Send a man to the city gates. Tell the slavers I will receive them here and accept their surrender. Otherwise, Yunkai will suffer the same fate as Astapor.” Daenerys spoke in elegant high Valyrian. 

Grey Worm simply nodded his head before marching off, Daenerys looked over the city one last time before making her way back to camp. The moment that she started to make her way back to the tent she could hear the husky northern lace accent of Lyra. 

“By the gods get out Egg, you are driving her nuts, the babes will come when the babes feel like it! Go ride Ares or something!!” Lyra yelled angrily. 

Shoving Aegon out of the tent until he came stumbling back into the arms of Daenerys who could not help but chuckle. She wrapped her arms around his burning form resting her chin on his shoulder as he let out a heavy sigh like the last thing that he wanted was to leave the tent. Aegon fought the urge to growl out in frustration. Helios stalked out of the tent circling the entrance before dropping on the ground. 

From here both parents could hear the giggle of Rhaego who a year would be old in a few months. Both looked over their shoulder to see Rhaego sitting by a fire with three handmaidens fluttering about him. Irri and Jaqui were coming at him in Dothraki as Doreah spoke in high Valyrian. Rhaego was paying them no mind, his eyes were locked on the lion cub that they named Pan.

The lion cub was the size of Rhaego as he jumped and chased after a butterfly letting out a furious growl, the labored breathing of Nala could be heard as she much like her bonded warg was pregnant with a new litter. They were going to rebuild their pride the same way that Aegon and Daenerys were rebuilding their bloodline. 

Oceanus was roaring from above he was eight months old and already he was larger than a dog with a wingspan of 45 feet. Soon he would be the size of a horse already larger than any of their dragons was at that age. 

Their dragons were no two years old and still, they seemed larger for their age. It made Aegon and Daenerys both think that their dragons are growing abnormally fast, but they had nothing to compare it to. Glittering blue scales were turning into blue blurs in the light as Daenerys smiled sweetly at her little dragon and dragon lord. 

“Come one Lyra has a point you have been wound way too tightly and the dragons can sense it. Let us go.” Daenerys spoke as she halfheartedly dragged Aegon along. 

For a moment his eyes refused to leave the tent but regretfully he looked over to the open space where the dragons were resting even from here, he could feel the waves of heat and smell the scent of sulfur.

Silverwing and Arrax never left the sky and they rarely ever left each other's sides. As if they were two lovers tied together. Eragon was off with his father and mother, unlike Aegon and Daenerys had time to just be alone. 

Arthur and Whent were with them while Jonothor and Ser Jorah were resting with Enyo, Aegon's mind was racing as a raspy thick voice filled his mind and a field of fire fluttered before his mind. 

“It's time that we cement our bond” It was the same raspy thick voice as before, Ares's voice. 

Rage swirled in his mind as well as outrage, outrage that Aegon had put it off this long, he let out a heavy breath as he looked over to the massive golden walls. The harpy seemed daunting as he sneered. 

“I'm going to burn that damn harpy down before the day is over.” A sneer pulled at his lips. 

Rage bubbled in his heart and his words as he looked over to his dazzling wife, a warm smile on her face as she looped her arm in with him. With all that had been going on neither one of them had much time to themselves taking in a deep breath Daenerys let her mind clear and she knew that was not going to be that way for long. Together they stalked out into the massive clearing. 

“Just don't burn the walls' ' Daenerys joke forced on that carefree boy that she knew to come back. 

He let out a bright laugh as his face lit up and all the sadness and worry from his face faded away. A warm smile beaming and bright lit up his face and warmed his heart. 

“Sounds like a plan.” A smile worked at his lips as he looked over to the dazzling red scales of Ares, his silt red eyes locked on him. 

His wings arms were slammed in the ground, Balerion was no better, his black body glimmering as smoldering red eyes remained of the deepest pits of hell. There was a charge to the air as Aegon and Daenerys walked over to their respective dragons. A warm smile played at Aegon's lips as he felt the heat hidden beneath the boiling hot blood coursing through his leathery skin. 

Slowly and carefully Dany and Aegon climb up onto Balerion and Ares back the warmth of their body pooling in between their legs, when their fingers curl over the spike running along their neck a power burned into their hands. 

Building white-hot pain rushed through their palms as Dany looked down at her hand to see that there was an outline of a roaring dragon. The moment that she touched it she was transported into volcanic landscapes. Lava veins were bubbling as steam bubbled up as she walked out the cave as a moist breeze rushed through the air. 

There was moisture-laden against her skin as she looked up to see the bright blue sky and lacking any clouds, the golden sun did not have the usual brute heat of the eastern sun. As she looked to the dark castle, she knew that they were in fact on the island of her birth. But the most startling thing was the dragon descending from the sky dazzling black scales and crimson wings dropped into the ground. 

The size of a castle and looked to be much older than he was right now, but she knew that he was Balerion, “ _ Daenerys Storm Born we were both born on this island and stolen away from it, in due time we will return together and take what's ours with fire and blood. Are you ready to be one of the first dragon riders in 300 years to take to get skies once more _ ?” 

A Raspy and thick voice echoed loudly in her ears and the mind she was staring at was what it was like for Aegon each time he closed his eyes and entered the minds of Ghost, Helios, or Ares. Shock and dismay filled her, but she was enthused all the same. 

“I am letting Balerion the black dread ride once more.” Daenerys jutted her chin out as she took in a deep breath as a thunderous roar echoed in the air. 

When she opened her eyes she sat on the back of Balerion looking down at that same hand as she looked over to see Aegon much like she was looking at a dragon mark that was in the mid roar and burned red into his skin. Both for a moment just sat there reveling in the feeling before leaning forward and tightening their grip on the two spikes between the dragon’s shoulder blades. With a mighty roar, they could feel their dragon’s muscles tensing as both began to break into a run, all the while Toxicana was curled on the ground refusing to take flight until Enyo could go with her. Dothraki and the unsullied dove out of the way. 

A light-hearted chuckle left Aegon’s lips as he yelled back at the first in Dothraki then High Valyrian,” sorry” 

With a thunderous crack of their wings, and a humorous giggle from Daenerys both with awe and excitement in their hearts they took off high into the sky. Their hearts soared and thundered in their ears as both were able to slip into her mind and for the first time since they met they felt so free of duty and burdens that for a moment they forgot that they were outside of a city that they were trying to conquer. 

The hot air whipped at their hair and burned my eyes as the loud crunch of sand began to fill their minds as they looked down to see Rhaego looking up at them with wide violet eyes. Both blink rapidly struggling to adjust to the rushing wind that slammed against their eyes hardly and without relent. Happy screeches filled the air as Arrax and Silverwing screeched like it was their turn for their riders to get moving but Arrax did not have a rider.

Viserys was out of sight and out of mind there was hardly a time that Daenerys even thought about them and now as they cured over the burning red sands they didn't have a care in the world even as they ascended higher and higher into the cloud hidden form the eyes of the world both were filled with joy. 

In the air, they truly felt like a king and a queen, in this moment they were free from the world and all that would get in their way. They were truly dragon lords now and nothing was going to get in their way.

Ser Barristan III

His heart thundered in his chest as he looked around the massive red sands that were swirling around them; they would be at the Targaryen camp in a matter of minutes. His mind and his heart were racing as he looked over to Benjen much like the rest of them his heart was racing his mind blank and the only thoughts that he had were for his wife, daughter, and his sister. His children Lillian and Mya were running ahead of them, not a care in the world. 

Their mares slamming their hooves into the ground as they darted forward without a care in the world. But Ser Barristan knew that even in the open plains there was a danger lurking around every corner. The horses were growing more skittish the closer that they got to the camp almost like they could sense the very danger that had been hidden away for a while. 

“We all love Lyanna but the Targaryens will see us as foes. We attacked them aided by Robert during the rebellion. For all they know we are spies here to kill them in their sleep why would they ever trust us.” Lord Karstark spoke. 

His voice thick and gravelly, as worry echoed deeply in his blue eyes as he shifted to look at the massive pavilion and the thousands of horses hiding tents and silk tents that were littering the red sands. 

Ser Barristan smiled gently at the worried man as his fingers were running along with a carefully wrapped bag that rested on his side. “Rhaella was terrified of her husband and after Summerhall she hid all their reminder dragons’ eggs, some on Dragon Stones. Some are hidden in the walls of Kings Landing; some are even hidden at the wall with Aemon Targaryen in the night's watch. After all my time in the capital, I was only able to find one. You will present it to them as a sign of goodwill.” 

Even as the old knight spoke his fingers were moving to the bag as he pulled it over his neck and handed it off to Benjen with a firm nod looking to the camp that was getting closer with each passing moment. Excitement and hunger built in his chest at the thought of reuniting with his brothers and his king. His mind was racing as the scent of rotten eggs began to fill his nose and a loud crack of thunder filled the air as he snapped his head up. 

At first, he saw nothing than with a second thunderous clap of wings a thick raspy throaty roar filled the air as a crimson blur slammed against the ground forcing it to shake Ser Barristan look on with doubt as the long snapping neck of a dragon that had to be at least 50 feet long with a massive head darted out reptilian eyes locked on Ser Barristan as he knew him. 

The horses reared back as Mya and Lillian whirled their horses around that were rushing right to them. The beast was large with a wingspan of 130 feet imposing and dangerous the air around as his neck whipped back and forth finally revealing the boy with snow-white hair that was resting on the beast's back. His bright indigo eyes were the spitting image of Rhaegar. 

“Ser Barristan” Shock filled his voice. 

His hands were gripping at the spikes of the dragon's neck but he was not the only one that was shocked, Benjen’s jaw was hanging as a second roar husky and thickly filled the air, the wind began to rise like a dragon as black as its own shadow befall them. Smoldering red eyes looking like two flaming pits was locked on them. 

Fear and awe crawled into the throat of Ser Barristan and his northern companions as this beast was just as massive as the red one. Both had a menacing air about them as a power bloomed in the eyes of the girl that rid the black and red dragon. Her molten silver hair and deep violet eyes were a dead giveaway for Daenerys Targaryen. Even though Ser Barristan never met her he knew her the moment that he saw her. 

“State your business here!!” Her voice boomed as a second roar echoed in the air only it was not a dragon's roar. 

Dazzling white lions leaped from the shadows, deep brown eyes flashing white as if someone were peering into his mind, the young boy sat on the back of the crimson dragon commanding the white lion. Ser Barristan did not know him, but he was too young to be Viserys which meant that he had to be Aegon Targaryen the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar. 

“Your Grace, I am Ser Barristan, and this is your lord uncle of Baer Island Benjen Stark I believe his wife Dacey Stark and their daughter Lyra reside with you.” Ser Barristan struggled to keep his voice steady. 

Never did he expect to see dragons in his lifetime or any lifetime for that, yet here they were as plain as the blue sky above, Aegon studied Ser Barristan then the rest of the crew, taking in the lack of banners but his eyes instantly went to Benjen. Taking in his darkening gray eyes and dark brown curls and his lean and lithe form the same form that Aegon had.

Aegon remembered hearing about his cousin from Lyra who talked about how they were true northern women, wild and filled with joy and battle lust. The thought forced him to smile as he looked over the other guest that had to be lords from the other house. 

“I do not see lord Glover among you. I would have thought that stubborn old man would have joined you.” Aegon spoke swinging his left leg over the dragon's back.

One hand was resting on the red beast's neck as he began to climb down the wing of the dragon. This time Ser Barristan noticed the pulsing red ruby on the back of the dragon lords back the blade of Blackfyre. 

The young princess did the same coming to walk over to Aegon looping her arm in his, she had toned arms that suggested she trained in the martial arts. As the wind fluttered her silver silks Ser Barristan could see the hidden dagger that was strapped to her hip. Both had a regal but demanding air about them. Something that made them seem less like children and more like feared dragons’ rulers. 

“We did not want to attract more attention and we knew that Lord Glover is a skeptical man. He could want more than my say so that your mother is alive. Where is she?” Benjen spoke in a cool voice. 

His eyes were scanning the dragons with worry in his eyes as he shifted to stare at the young prince who was looking over to Daenerys the both of them looked to be having a private conversation as the lion stalked forward lips curled over-sharpening gleaming teeth that could easily rip them apart.

“Helios calm down they are friends, Lord Umber, Lord Karstark it is an honor to meet you, my mother has told me much about both of you and all of the Northern house. It is an honor to meet all of you. My mother is otherwise engaged now.” Aegon spoke in a polite voice. 

He had an easy-going smile on his face and his skin looked flush from the dragon ride that he just took, Daenerys was a breath of fresh air by his side as a loving air encircled her as she got down to one knee running her fingers through the soft mane of the lion as if to tease the lion. A warm smile pulled at her supple pink lips as she looked over to Aegon. 

“It is an honor to meet you as well Prince Aegon, if not your mother then your father, where is the king?” Benjen’s voice was polite. 

But Aegon outlet helped but feel slighted because everyone assumed that he was not fit to lead all because of his age. Daenerys felt the same, she was old enough to kill and give birth but not to lead. The thought was infuriating as both hardened for a moment, as they looked over to the massive black dragon taking off high into the air. 

“They don't lead this camp we do, Qarth, Astapor, the Dothraki and the Unsullied, the three cities in the red waste they take orders from us. My father might be king but I and my wives rule this city” Aegon spoke in a steady voice. 

He might have said more but the loud pounding of hooves shook the ground as they all snapped their heads up to see 100s of thousands of men on horse rushing over to them. Among them was a girl with black hair but violet eyes with a massive silver dragon flying overhead roaring with power as a large host of Northern men rested before the entrance to their camp. 

Unanimous roars filled the air as two more dragons burst from the clouds on top of a dazzling green dragon with bright bronze highlights coming darting through the sky and on the back of the dragon was a man with long silver hair and deep indigo eyes. Ser Barristan noticed that there were now 5 dragons flying through the sky. 

“Barristan, you old fool!” Arthur roared with shock and dismay and pure joy. 

All heads snapped over to see the golden blond hair with deep violet eyes and the massive sword on his back that they all knew to be Dawn. 

“Egg! It's Enyo!!” The black hair girl raised with panic. 

Aegon stilled as he snapped his head back to see the young girl and something akin to terror flooded his face as that cold distant mask fell from his face. Three men each one of them menacing and dangerous but varying in ages swirled around the young Targaryens. 

They spoke in a guttural tongue that the Northern men and Ser Barristan could not hope to understand but Aegon and Daenerys understood them perfectly nodding their heads as worry flashed across his face then manic excitement. 

Aegon rushed up the crimson wing of his dragon as he looked over to Ser Barristan and his uncle, “My men will show you the way to the camp I must get going, Dany stays with them, Enyo doesn't need all of us annoying her with our worry.” Aegon sighed heavily as with a thunderous crack of his wings he took off high into the sky. 

Ser Barristan felt a lead like confused as he looked over to the girl that was slowing her ride as she looked over to Benjen and something sparked in her eyes. 

“Uncle it's an honor to meet you Aunt Dacey has told us much about you, I'm Meleys Targaryen'' The girl's voice was sweet like honey. 

A warm and inviting smile pulled at her lips as she thrust herself from the saddle of the horse like she had been riding her whole life. The other men were struggling to match her pace and they were horse lords. Ser Barristan knew that Rhaegar had three children which meant that Enyo had to be the other wife. 

But what was wrong with her? 

“Don't mind Aegon, he can be a bit high strong where his family is concerned, today has been especially stressful so on behalf of my brother I apologize.” She bowed politely as a knight that had the stink of the North about him looked on in dismay. 

“Princess please don't bow your head.” Ser Jorah spoke in utter dismay. 

Ser Barristan was just as startled watching at the princess bow her head before the knights before as a girl rushed through the horde with excitement in her eyes. 

“Father!!!” Lyra roared with excitement. 

Dashing through the men as he looked up to the sky where the crimson dragon was retreating. Benjen seemed to light up at the sight of his daughter; she still had that mace on her hip and those wild gray eyes that lit up her elegant face. Ser Barristan had never seen the eldest daughter of Benjen, to see her, made him think that she was not Dacey or Benjen’s child. 

Meleys started to rise from her bow as her eyes flicked over each of the lords as she smiled sweetly, “Aunt Dacey and mother are with Enyo, she is in the middle of giving birth and they have all been worried for quite some time.” 

There was an almost worried air to the young woman that was not only then 14, she took in a deep breath as she looked to the sky to see her father flying overhead of them on the green and bronze dragon though the way that he was circling she knew that he was going to land. With a thunderous shake of the ground.

“Ser Barristan your old goat when Aegon said you were coming I didn't believe it.” Rhaegar roars with amusement. Pulling the startled man into a hug that was so tight Ser Barristan feared his bones might break but he was happy all the same. 

When they pulled away Ser Barristan knew that a knight was missing, “Where is Gerold?” Ser Barristan questions. 

The moment he spoke the warm atmosphere died down and there was a darkness that was befalling the entire crew. Daenerys looked to be the most depressed out of the bunch, when she spoke, she did so in a soft voice. 

“He is dead, he died trying to protect me from my brother’s cruelty. Come it would be better to speak in the camp. I'm sure that Lyanna will be glad to see you, Lord Stark.” Daenerys spoke in a warm voice that had a cordial air to it. 

Benjen took the time to present the gift knowing that it would be the perfect gift for a prince, “Queen Daenerys a gift for your good son or a good daughter.” As Benjen spoke he carefully unfurled the slack revealing a dazzling golden egg.

The sight forced Daenerys to bubble with life. This was a sign from the gods that Enyo was going to have triplets. 

Lyanna V

Enyo was resting in the bed, her hair began to grow dampened by sweat, her silver and snow-white hair was rippling down her back, spear out on the pillow as she roared with rage.

“Where the hell is Aegon? I will skin him alive!!” Enyo roared with hatred as pain fluttered across her face. 

Dacey was hiding her smile as she dropped down to one knee dabbing Enyo’s face as her brows began to scrunch up and his face grew slick with sweat. Enyo’s smoke-gray eyes were looking at the eggs that were resting on a satin pillow. Her eyes were locked on the egg swearing that they would hatch and as the pain grew more and more consuming the eggs began to shake. 

The half icy blue half red rested on the left of the pillow was shaking more violently as the tent flap was flung open, Aegon stalked into the room with a panicked look on his face as he rushed to the right of his wife gripping tightly to her hand as she squeezed with all her might. 

“We heard all the Dothraki leave, where did they go?” Lyanna whispered but Enyo could still hear her mother. 

Her eyes shifted to her husband as her smoky gray eyes threatened to rip his hand off if he did not answer his question. Taking in a steady breath Aegon shifted his stare to his aunt who he did not get along with. 

“Uncle Benjen is here with Lords Glover and Lord Karstark, they are probably making their way back to the camp as we speak and with them Ser Barristan.” Aegon spoke as if that did not matter. 

To him that did not matter all he could think about was his wife and children to come as he kissed her hand a massive wave of pain rushed over her as her loud piercing screams filled the tent as Dacey continued to dabbed her sweaty brow but Dacey mind was with her husband and children that were making their way into the camp. 

Pain evident in her bright gray eyes as her silver hair laid flat against her clammy skin. Enyo gripped tightly to Aegon’s hand with panic in her eyes as another round of loud never-ending screams echoed in the air. Fire burned through her body, the more she screamed the more that the eggs began to shake. The louder the scream the more pain that flashed in her eyes, her lips pulled into a tight grimace as she squeezed the life from Aegon’s hand. 

He did his best to keep his face impassive, but the pain started to become more evident as time went on. Irri’s almond-shaped eyes looked up from between Enyo’s legs, a smile pulled at her lips as she spoke in a thick Dothraki accent.

“One more push Khaleesi I can see the head” She spoke in a quicken voice. 

With each deafening scream the egg that was icy blue and crimson red shook more and more volatile until a soft cracking filled the air along with the wailing of a child. Lyanna was not sure where she should look, a loud screech and the wailing of a child filled the air. 

Lyanna looked at the egg that was now a dragon. The right side of the dragon was a dazzling iridescent icy with a smooth icy silt eye, even his wing and back hind leg and half of his tail was a pale icy blue.

While the left side of the dragon was a deep crimson color down to the wing, hind leg, eye, and the spokes on the right side of his body. The dragon was half northern half Targaryen much like the child that left the womb of Enyo. 

Enyo slammed her head back with exhaustion written on her face, but she looked like she might fall asleep. Irri rushed over cleaning off the babe, her silver hair came in on soft tufted curls, her soft pink lips were procured as her gummy teeth greeted Aegon. She had the deep smoke gray eyes of the Starks and the matching long face but the ethereal beauty of the Targaryens there was a sort of glow forming around the dazzling babe. She was just as breathtaking as her mother and father. 

Loud screeches filled the air as Enyo looked to the egg that was now a dragon, the dragon let out an expectant screech like he wanted to be with his rider. Aegon and Enyo both looked on with shock but neither one of them was done not yet. The dragon flutters down from the pillow waddling over to the babe that was being placed in the arms of Lyanna. She could not help but smile as she looked down to her granddaughter that she knew they were going to name Rhae. 

Lyanna made her way over to the impatient swaddling dragon that was no bigger than a kitten, his tail swished back and forth one side icy blue the other crimson red. There was hunger filling the dragon's chest as he roared with hatred. All but screaming hurry the hell up. 

Lyanna bent down to one knee holding a handout slowly and carrying the dragon, his right and left side of his head looking into Lyanna's hands with a few tentative sniffs. She could feel the heat of the little guy as he climbed into Lyanna's palm. 

She took in the wonder that is the two little bundles in her arms as the little dragon crawled up her shoulder as she cradled Rhae gently in her arms. But as Enyo let out another bout of pain screech that forces the wonder to leave the air. 

Irri went back down between her legs as Aegon struggled to stay calm, they knew that there was a chance that she was having twins so that was not unexpected. As she began to scream and roar with curses and rage, the soft emerald green egg with golden flecks just like the blue and red egg began to shake so violently that they thought the egg was rolling off the pillow. 

After a few long moments, a second babe was pulled from Enyo, and with the cries of a babe came the screeches of an emerald green dragon. His scales were gleaming as if they had their own glow to them, dazzling gold spikes and horns were glimmering in the faint light of the massive tent. He flapped his wings happily as eyes that looked like golden rounded shields stared back at Lyanna. 

She turned her attention to the new babe who was all Targaryen, though this babe has not been screaming instead soft giggle and wet smiles greeted them all, she had the same long face and ethereal beauty as her sister but she had bright indigo eyes like her father and his matching snow white curls. Though her face was identical to her sister, once more another dragon lord was born into the world Rhaella Targaryen.

Enyo roared as she slammed her head back on her feather pillows damped with sweat. She was glad to be done and over with at least that was her thought as Daenerys came in another tent. A shimmering golden egg in her hands as she walked into the tent and much like the other eggs it was shaking violently so they knew that there was a third babe on the way.

Enyo let out an exhausted sigh she wanted nothing more than to curl up and quickly Lyanna could see the look fluttering across her face as Aegon held Rhaella and Lyanna held Rhae. They could not even be happy that Dany was back in camp because if she were back that meant that Benjen and the others were with her. Lyanna could barely think she was so happy that she could barely think straight. 

The screamed continued once more as if they had never ended to begin with, the egg shook more in the hands of Dany but her eyes was locked on the smooth blue and red dragon that rested on her good mothers shoulder while a shimmering emerald dragon was resting on Aegon's shoulder as he hefted his youngest daughter in his arms. 

Enyo’s fingers were clawing at the sheets, her eyes darkening to the stone black color as she shut her eyes as her face twisted into one of pain. Curses venomous and cold spilled from her lips as Irri let out a happy laugh as she spoke in Dothraki. 

“Khal you have another boy” Irri roared with joy. 

As she pulled a robust boy who was all stark, he had thick black hair that came out in curly tuffets, with pale creamy skin and smooth dark gray eyes that almost looked black. He even had the long face of the starks but the moment that the soft peck and cracking of an egg sounded, and a golden iridescent dragon rested in the hand of Daenerys. Lyanna knew that he might look like a stark, but he was a Targaryen by blood. The moment that his little eyes rested on the golden dragon he let out a squeal of joy. 

“Where did you get the egg from?” Aegon questioned as he watched his son be brought to Enyo who pulled her son to her breast who suckled happily like he did not have a care in the world. 

Daenerys smiled sweetly at her good son as she spoke in a cool voice. 

“My mother hid eggs from my father, Benjen found that egg and handed it to us as a gift for the child born into the world today. Looks like you have nothing to worry about. All of the children have eggs.” Dany spoke in a cool voice. 

But Lyanna was not so calm she knew that now she would have to face her brother after so long. But what would he think of her and her family? What would she say to him? Sorry I got dad killed? She laughed at the idea. All the same she knew that she was going to have to talk to him. But now she was absorbed in this moment. 

Benjen IV

He could hardly believe what he was seeing, real life dragons flying around everywhere the scream of a woman came to an end as Daenerys rushed into the tent. But Benjen’s eyes were locked on the children. Mya and Lillian were staring up at the sky and ground in wonder, not sure what they should look at and for how long. Dothraki leered at them from a distance not liking or trusting the northern people and the 10,000 men that they had brought with them. 

They trusted the Targaryen but Benjen knew that was earned, he looked over to see that there was a silver hair man dropping down to one knee as his fingers were running gently along the molten silver curls of a little boy that liked to almost be a year old. He was clapping happily as his eyes locked a cub with white fur. 

Benjen could see the way that the boy's eyes flashed white for a moment before he turned to look at Benjen. His bright violet eyes looked like wine as he stared in confusion. There was a girl fluttering around the babe. Her golden hair shimmering in the light as her soft blue eyes were filled with love as she was on her knees a firm hand on the back of the young prince. 

Mya and Lillian were ogling the baby, but they must have gotten too close because the baby lion roared with hatred, but it sounded more like a yelp. A shudder rushed over Benjen as he sensed something coming, with a thunderous check of a dragon with a wingspan of 45 feet and the size of a full-grown dog. He had deep blue scales the color of the ocean, his long coiling neck snapped out as black teeth ripped as the air as the scent of sulfur filled their noses as they watched puffs of black smoke escape flaring nostrils. 

“Oceanus enough!” Rhaegar roared in rage as he stood up from the sweet babe who began to yank on Oceanus blue tail. Giggling as he did so. 

Benjen could barely understand what he was seeing, a dragon that could not be any older than the babe, did he already have an egg and if so, who's babe was this. 

The blue dragon curled perfectly around the babe refusing to leave his side as his blocky head rested in front of the chunky little feet of the babe. Glittering blue wings and pale tuffets of a lion's mane. The blonde girl smiled as the little boy was yanking on her hair squealing with joy as he did so. 

“Whose baby is that?” Benjen spoke as he eyes the child with a dragon and a lion at his side. 

Meleys smiled sweetly at the little boy as she stalked about the camp letting her eyes land on an obsidian patch of land that the dragons were resting in. There was a smooth yet heavy air about the land as Mya rushed over to the boy forgetting the dragon or the lion cub. 

“He is so cute, yes you are '' She cooed at the baby which only made him squeal as he held his arms out taking a liking to the little wolf from bear island. 

“Rhaego of house Targaryen, he is Daenerys son with Aegon, my nephew and heir.” Meleys’ voice sweet with love 

Sweet violet eyes were locked on the tent where scratches were echoing in the air, “Looks like there are more dragons born into the air.” Rhaegar let out a heavy sigh his daughter spoke. 

“Great, three babies and three matching dragons, what could go wrong.” Rhaegar rolled his eyes. 

The sky was bright as a green dragon with bronze highlights flew over the camp for a second time as he took off high into the air. There was wrong with the dragon but what? Confusion echoed in Benjen’s chest when something seemed wrong. 

“Eragon is rattled” A husky voice filled the air. 

Aegon walked out into the open a little girl in his arms that had the same snow-white curls as him and bright indigo eyes. The warmth in his stare was filled with pride and joy as he grinned down at his daughter, an emerald baby dragon resting on his shoulder as he looked over to Benjen smiling weakly. 

“Sorry again for the rude words, I was worried about my wife, but it seems that there was nothing for me to worry about.” Aegon smiled warmly as he shifted to look at his father's pride still shimmering in his eyes but Benjen could tell that he was waiting to see what his father had to say. 

The older man let out a heavy breath shifting to look at Lord Karstark and Lover Glover both of which were just as awed as Benjen to see dragon but dragons was not the reason that the game went all this way south. It was the thought that Lyanna was still alive that was driving them to move forward. 

“While I was on his back, we noticed the wise master on their way here, how is Enyo?” Rhaegar questioned as he let out a heavy breath more worried about his daughter than the men making their way here.

“She is fine nursing Maegor. She had triplets: two girls and a boy, there are four Targaryen children and they have matching eggs. I suppose we have you to thank for that Ser Barristan and of course my dear brother who presented the egg at the perfect time.” Lyanna spoke in a sweet and husky voice. 

There was a warm smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes but the breath in Benjen’s lungs exceeded lurching as he could barely think straight he had hope but he didn't think that it was true not until now. Her thick brown curls rippled down her back as her smoke gray eyes were filling with love as he noticed how effortlessly she was around the dragon as if she were a Targaryen herself. 

There was a dragon resting on her shoulder that was both breathtaking and confusing to look at, the left side of him was an icy blue and the right side of the dragon was red. He was split equally down the middle, one wing red the other blue. His eyes were filling with power as he roared with power and pride. As if he did not mind that his dragon rider would be a girl. 

The little babe in Lyanna’s arm was a mix between the Stark and the Targaryens, but as much as he wanted to look at the babes and the dragons that came with them his eyes were on his sister her thin form and toned arms greeted him her once creamy white skin was now a deep tan color, almost like gold from the exposure of the eastern son for 16 long years. 

Benjen wanted to pull her tight and never let her go but he knew that he could not do that without a babe in her arms. All he could do was gape as she turned to speak to the lords that were resting behind her. Northern eyes wide with doubt were locked on her as if seeing her was more startling then seeing a dragon. 

“Lord Glover, Lord Karstark, you are both sights for sore eyes, I didn't think that I would ever see you in my life times, I'm saddened that you are the only Northern lords that are willing to trust my little brother's judgment. Though I suppose after what the mad king did, they are not going to forgive or trust the Targaryens no matter if Rhaegar did nothing to me his father did plenty to my brother and father. Though still I had hoped that the Glovers would side with us.” A sad smile pulled at her lips 

Her eyes showed true guilt, and pain like the last thing that she wanted was to fight against the northern men but if she had to, she would. Benjen felt the same but that was before any of them knew that there was a fire breathing beast. 

“We had to move fast sister, Ned is……” Benjen did not know how to say that he knew the truth and did not care. 

“He is a dog of the man that has been hunting us, he has been hunting us, in the months leading up to us getting here there have been numerous attempts on our lives including Rhaego’s. Attempts made by people that were sent here by Ned Stark. We are keenly aware of his attitude, we know that he sent Stannis to Ebonhead to kill my father and us, we know that he married off his son to Lady Margery, I know that there is some stupid little fool trying pretending to be a Targaryen ripping apart the west and causing a panic. He has been hunting my family long before I was born and if he had it his way he would not stop until we were all dead” Hatred boomed in Aegon's voice. 

Benjen wasn't even sure how he knew all about that but Lyanna let out a heavy sigh shaking her head heavily “It is true we know quite a large amount of what is going on, Ser Barristan told him the truth and instead of accepting it he gave you an ultimatum and locked away Ser Barristan, we are going to try and spare him but you know he won't simply side with us when he sees us. His love and connection to Robert is stronger than his connection with me, especially after 16 years of me behind him. But now we do not have time to catch up. Tonight, we will feast and tomorrow we will take Yunkai and feast once more and hopefully have more time to speak. But now the wise masters are coming, and we must be ready to greet them.” 

Benjen nodded his head; he knew that things were moving fast, and they all needed a moment to slow down but that moment was not now. He nodded his head but left them with a tidbit that shocked them all. 

“Yes, after that we must talk. I brought you a gift, a stag.” Benjen spoke in a coy voice that grabbed all their attention, but it was like they said they had no time to talk not yet. 

Ser Barristan IV 

The Unsullied come to attention. Led by a drummer and flanked by guards, a brightly colored palanquin carrying Razdal Mo Eraz passes through. He surveys the Unsullied who speckle the rough landscape. But that was not filled with him for free. Off in the distance he could see thick black claws were ripping through a large rock. His wings pressed firmly as he leered at the wise master. All the while many shadows fell over his face as the dragon continued to fly overhead watching him with silt and murderous eyes. 

The chains of the slaves who bear his load rattle as they walk. More slaves bear ornate chests as they walk. For the wise master it did not take long for them to get to the camp but to the slaves that were forced to carry him they were exhausted and it was the longest journey that they had to endure. 

As they reached the camp there was a massive avalon set up for the Targaryens to receive guests, there were three thrones but only two were filled, one was a large black and gray chair that had wolves and dragons inscribed on it. That was the chair that sat Aegon and it sat in the middle of the three thrones. 

The throne to the left was empty but it had the same dragons and wolves inscribed on it while the throne to the right sat Daenerys and that throne was red and black and had only dragons drawn into the smooth deep wood bounded in leather. 

Ser Barristan was new to the group, but he was still a part of their king's guard; he rested behind his known boy king while Ser Jorah stood behind Dany. While Helios rested in front of the King. His murderous brown eyes and pale white fur were leering at the wise master taking him aback. The slaves lower the palanquin. Razdal Mo Eraz steps out and is greeted by Missandei, the former slave.

The thought of the man before her disgusted her, Ser Barristan could see the look on her face as her golden eyes glimmered with hatred for the man that rested before her. The very thing that he took pride in, she was disgusted in. But she forced all her hate and rage to be hidden behind a sweet and quaint mask. 

“Now comes the noble Razdal Mo Eraz of that ancient and honorable house, master of men and speaker to savages, to offer terms of peace.” Missandei spoke in a monotone voice. 

The dragons screech in warning as Razdal approaches nervously, the piercing gaze of the lion as he starts to rise stalking around Razdal in a predatory circle as a thick rumbling growl built in the back of the lion's throat. From what Barristan heard around the camp the young princess was not the only one that was giving birth today. The mate of this white lion was also birthing her cubs today. More cubs for the princesses and the prince that was just brought into this world. 

“Noble lord, you are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons. You are also in the presence of Aegon Targaryen of House Targaryen, Sixth of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, the stallion who will mount the world, Khal of the great grass sea ,the dragon wolf, Breaker of Chains, Father of dragons.” Missandei spoke in a monotone voice but Ser Barristan could see the pride that was filling in her eyes. 

“You may approach. Sit.” Daenerys spoke sweetly as her fluttering white silk shimmered in the light. 

A Dothraki woman presents a chair for Razdal and he sits but Ser Barristan could see that the last thing that he wanted was to sit but he had to seem firm in his convictions. A thunderous screech filled the air as a bright blue dragon that Ser Barristan found out was called Oceanus the dragon of the baby prince Rhaego. He rushed to Daenerys' side like he could sense the danger in the air. 

His blocky head nuzzled her and until she had no choice but to pet his head as Missandei smiled as she saw the way that the wise master all but jumped with fear. 

“Will the noble lord take refreshment?” Missandei spoke sweetly amused by his terror. 

The wise master simply nodded his head as if he did not trust the words that escaped his lips. Missandei pours him some wine. Razdal drinks deeply, never taking his eyes from Daenerys but he did let it flicker over to Aegon. The boy did not speak; he had a warm smile on his face like he was amused by all of this. Rhaegar and Lyanna were standing off to the side with Meleys Targaryen. The young princess was sweet and kind, nothing like her brother or her aunt that had a fire to them that they were not afraid to show it. 

He did not speak; he simply watched his lion circle around the wise master nonstop like a fish in a tank ready to lurch out. 

“Ancient and glorious is Yunkai. Our empire was old before dragons stirred in old Valyria. Many an army has broken against our walls. You shall find no easy conquest here, Khalessi, khal.” Razdal spoke in a cool voice.

There was smugness to his voice that didn't sit right with the old knight but it didn't sit well with the prince either he could see the way that his smile began to waver but he forced it to stay on his face as Daenerys dug her finger into an ornate bowl before tossing it into the air. Oceanus did not even need to be told what to do. He darted through the air screeching as blue flames danced along the air just by the face of the slave masters. Razdal recoils in trepidation, his eyes widening as he watched the young dragon rip apart the flesh with ease. If a baby dragon could do that, what would a grown dragon look like? 

“Good. Our Unsullied need practices. I was told to blood them early.” Daenerys taunted him and she was not the only one. 

“I'm sure that you heard what happened to Qarth, they thought that they could take my son and wife and they would get away with it. They took them while I was away at meetings, forced my wife's hand so she could not kill them, and they would have killed my boy. They threatened my family, they thought that they could tangle with wolves and dragons and they would make it out of their unscathed. Out of the council of 13 only three live by our grace, and out of all the Pureborn only one live and that was out of my grace. I exiled the slave master of Astapor and took the life of only one master. I have been gracious and with my family from the west finally here I can be even more gracious with you then I was with the first two cities though that is up to you.” Aegon spoke in a warm and welcoming voice. 

Ser Barristan could see that he really meant it that he was willing to give these wise masters something that he never gave Qarth or Astapor, which was a chance. 

“If blood is your desire, blood shall flow. But why? 'Tis true you have committed savageries in Astapor. But the Yunkai are a forgiving and generous people.” Razdal spoke and Ser Barristan swore that he could see the way that Aegon’s eyebrow twitched when he said savageries. 

Razdal claps twice to signal his slaves. They bring forth the two chests though Daenerys was looking at the slaves rather than the chest, a pity looks fluttering across her stare if only for a moment. Before her face turned wonder filled her stare despite her best efforts to hide it.

“The wise masters of Yunkai have sent a gift for the silver queen and khal of khals.” Razdal bowed respectively but there was a tension to the air that did not sit right there was something going on. 

The slaves place the chests before Daenerys and Aegon and open their lids. The chests are filled with gold ingots. The slaves retreat and bow deeply before them in reverence. But that seemed to annoy the king as he looked to the people before him, Ser Barristan new that more than a few slavers had tried to get their hands on a silver or white haired Targaryen Ser Barristan could only imagine what they went through and he was sure that slavery was their worst fear. 

“There is far more than this awaiting you on the deck of your ship.” His tone polite and cordial but it seemed to rub them the wrong way 

Though they did need ships, the ones that they brought with them from the west didn't survive the eastern storms and the ones that did were sold to get them the horse and gold that they would need to make it to this point.

“Ships?” Daenerys questioned as she shifted to look at her husband. 

His chin was now resting on his open palm there was this bored look on his face, as if he were over trying to talk this out. Yunkai would be an easy conquest for them if they could get past the walls which they could do easily with if they got on the back of their dragons, but they would not burn innocent people would they? Self-doubt started to form in the chest of the older knight. 

“Yes, Khaleesi. As I said, we are a generous people. You shall have as many ships as you require….” The voice was cut off by the questioning tone of the silver queen. 

“And what do you ask in return?” Her left brow cocked upwards as Aegon seed to grow more interested. 

“All we ask is that you make use of these ships. Sail them back to Westeros where you belong and leave us to conduct our affairs in peace. End this so called conquest of the east, you may keep the Unsullied that you stole and the city sites in the red waste but leave us Astapor so that we may rebuild the wise master that you spare are eager to get back to their homes” Radial spoke and Aegon laughed. 

“I paid for the unsullied with hard earned gold I won against my battle with the pure bloods and we cannot keep people they are not property for you use and throw as you like, as for the red cities it is very generous of you to give us something that we took by blood and sweat.” Indignation and stinging laughter filled the voice of the prince as Daenerys gave her husband a stare that screamed behavior as she shifted her dark violet eyes over to the wise master with an air of spray wrapping around her. 

“I have a gift for you as well.” Daenerys spoke letting her voice draw on. 

Ser Barristan could see the way that he straightened up as if he were happy to hear this, but Dany simply smiled at him as if to say you simple minded fool. 

“Your life.” She spoke once more. 

Confusion fluttered across his face as his brows began to scrunch up and his lips were pulled into a tight lip grim line kind of like he was trying to figure it out without letting anyone know that he was confused. 

“My life?” He choked his head to the side as he asked the question. 

Rhaegar and Lyanna were both doing their best to hide their smiles as they looked over to their good daughter. There was a sharp and cunning air about her as the wise master finally noticed the blade that was resting on her hip. The dagger was hidden well beneath the fold of her skirt but not so well that they could not see it and fear that their throats might be slashed. 

“And the lives of your wise masters. But I also want something in return. You will release every slave in Yunkai. You will open your gate and throw yourself at our feet, slavery will be abolished and a new council will rule in our place, they will deal with the day to day and come to us for the most dire of circumstances including war. You will also pay all the slaves for their time in servitude. Reject this gift, and I shall show you no mercy.” Daenerys spoke with power and conviction.

Her fingers were tracing a strange mark on her hand that took the shape of a black dragon. Did she get a tattoo? Confusion echoed in the older knight he didn't think that the queen was that kind of omen but as she stood there proud and control no one doubted her right to lead not even he who for a moment was off put by the fact that a 15 year old and a 16 year old were controlling two armies and 5 cities. 

“You are mad. We are not Astapor or Qarth. We are Yunkai and we have powerful friends. Friends who would take great pleasure in destroying you. Those who survive, we shall enslave once more. Perhaps we will make a slave of you as well. Your brother did not have that much fury when he came to Yunkai. Maybe you will see him once righter before we put a collar around your neck.” Razdal spore and Aegon saw red. 

The first thing that he wanted to do was kill him but he knew that he couldn't do that and he knew that now he would have to take the time to later explain to Ser Barristan and the Northern men how Viserys ended up in chains while the rest of them remained free. Was that Ned and Roberts doing as well. 

Razdal stands quickly but far too fast for Helios liking he roared with fury letting his claws dance over the skin of the slave master. He barely managed to avoid the blow as Oceanus screeched at the top of his little lungs. Furious roars echoed as waves of heat and sulfur flashed against the old knight knowing that the older dragons were growing in fury. 

“You swore me safe conduct.” He all but whimpered in terror. 

“You swore that you would enslave my wife, Oceanus speaks for Rhaego and he was simply protecting his mother. Helios” A sly grin formed on his face. 

“Take the gold.” The terror in his voice forced it to grow shrill. 

The slaves rise and cautiously approach the open chests, but the dragon and the lion could all but smell the stench that wafted off them in nervous waves. The Oceanus refused their approach with aggressive screeching. The slaves retreat in fear, their arms shaking as Daenerys notices the long slash caused by whip marks as if he were trying to stop the lash from coming down on him. 

“Our gold. You gave it to me, remember? And I shall put it to good use. You would be wise to do the same with my gift to you. Now get out.” Daenerys spoke and Razdal cursed under his breath. 

“Sister you are right, diplomacy is so much better than just killing the masters. It has worked out so well for us. I don't like how they talked about Astapor, send a raven to Astapor, make sure that everything is good, and send a rider as well.” Aegon spoke in a sarcastic voice and then a begrudging one's Meleys let out a heavy sigh. 

“A pen is just as mighty as a sword, we need a strong foundation before going to war, we need to trust in our allies and causing them to submit threw force won't always work.” Meleys spoke in a safe voice looking to her aunt for help swaying Aegon but he simply laughed. 

“These people speak one langue violence; they have no decency they think that they are superior to everyone else, why else would they own, and trade people like they are property. Do you think that those children and men on the walk of punishment in Astapor did not try to reason with their masters before being tortured and strung up on those posts? But let us save the worst of humans.” Aegon joked as he rolled his eyes casually like this was just some kind of cruel joke. 

Daenerys giggled as she looked at the chair that had a small amount of fluid on it, “Look like he pisted himself so scared of my sweet dragon wolf. You can be quite imposing when you want to be Egg. Come we have one more matter to deal with before we begin to celebrate.” Daenerys spoke in a warm voice not the least bit concerned with the Wise Master. 

“The Yunkish are a proud people. They will not bend.” Ser Barristan spoke in a cautious voice. 

Feeling awkward as if he had been a part of the group and had earned the right to speak on such matters both the young queen simply looked over to her newest knight smiling warmly at him as her deep and dark violet eyes began to lighten up as pride and love shimmer in her eyes. 

“And what happens to things that don't bend? He said he had powerful friends. Who was he talking about?” She shifted her question to Ser Jorah, but it was Aegon that answer. 

“The scum has eyes everywhere, he somehow finds out about Rhaego and the dragons so he must have more eyes in the camp then I would like. But we cannot begin to pluck them out. Let them know for now we still have all the east to take the west but now I want to send a message to the stag king. Ser Barristan, would you please grab stag.” Aegon spoke in a low voice. 

Things grew tense and the pavilion grew dark. They knew that things were going to be tested for a while long before they got better. Ser Barristan wanted to ask about Viserys but instead he took a deep breath and allowed himself to forget about it if only for a few moments. 

Stannis II 

They had thrown a sack over his head long before they got into the camp. He did not know what was going on. He could smell the scent of cooking meat and feel the flicker of flames against his skin and he could hear this strange thunderous roar echoing loudly in the air. He knew what they were even if he did not see them, but he could not believe it. The darkness of the sack was normal to him, he had it on his face this whole time.

Suddenly the hood was ripped off and there was an older knight that was looming over him, soft periwinkle eyes were locked on him as this small sense of pity started to fill his eyes but he knew that it was not going to last long. 

“Get up” He spoke to Stannis, but he was frankly speaking to all of them a small group of men but enough that they would be killed for their allegiance. 

The moist humid air reeks of shit began to fade away as the men were forced to their knees and carried out into a wide massive open field they were making their way further and further from the camp until they were resting in a spot were the sand was not a deep crimson but a dark obsidian color. 

There were children standing before them and behind them the one and only Rhaegar Targaryen and he was not the only one; it had been a long time but I would never forget the face of the only woman that his brother truly loved and that was Lyanna Stark. Both were standing off to the side, hatred filling their eyes as they leered at the tall man before them. He could feel the overwhelming heat, but it had nothing to do with the eastern sun and everything to do with the pressure that he man before them was giving off. 

Off to the side he could see Benjen, Lord Karstark And Lord Glover all of them standing there with Stoney face. Their hands firmly folded behind their backs as they watched the King and the Queen that Stannis had heard so much but in Qarth. Though he knew that there was one other Queen, yet she was missing though if what he heard was right as they made their way into camp then she could still be in the birthing bed. 

A gorgeous woman with silver hair and deep violet eyes sparkling with hate leering at him. She had the beauty of the Valyrians, and Stannis knew who she was even if she did not say a word. Arthur moved to stand at her back as a shadow enveloped them as a thunderous rumble built in the air but there was not a single black cloud in the sky. 

At first Stannis thought that he was the one going mad, but then the ground shook as two massive dragons, one a deep crimson the same color as blood, sat behind the king while a black dragon as dark as the night's sky with scarlet red highlights sat behind the young queen. 

The fluttering white silk of her growth forced Stannis’ head to snap up to see the cause of the sharp gusting winds and he noticed the dagger that was hidden in her silk but his eyes were locked to the massive dragons. They had been dead for ages there was just no way that they simply existed they were not real they could not be real. 

As they slammed into the ground, their winged arms forced the ground to shake and the sand began to crunch. A shudder of fear and terror rushed down the men’s spine. Their long coiling neck secretly around the young queen and king’s body but both are firm and cold like they did not care if they could protect themselves. 

The boy had his sleeves wound up to relieve nasty what scars that went from his wrist all the way to his elbows and probably even higher, but Stannis could not see that far up his arm. 

“Do you like my scars one of your cousin gave it to me when he was trying to take my head, Baratheon men tried to rape my sister and don't get me started on the number of assassins that your brother sent after us. I mean it is laughable.” Aegon let out a short burst of bitter laughter as he leered at Stannis. 

There was darkness to his eyes as he nodded his head and spoke in a guttural tongue that sounded like the same language the horse lords spoke. Stannis looked around watching as he was the only one pulled from the group. 

“Lannisters have no honor, they are cruel, cold, convening and you can't trust a single word that spills from their lying lips. But the Baratheons are family and longtime allies of the Targaryens; your idiot brother chose to believe that my brother was a rapist and a monster rather than accepting the fact that the women that he was meant to marry didn't love him. He is a fat drunken fool who has no right to run the kingdom. He has hunted me and my family for years now he is trying to take the head of my son and my dragons. I will not allow it; I will not allow you to all live. I thought that we should simply kill you and let the dragons feast on your corpse, but my husband insisted on something a little different.” Daenerys spoke with hatred as she leered at Stannis. 

The six men that were left from his once large group were now cowering with tears riddling their cheeks as their lips trembled with terror. The black dragon and the red dragon took in a deep breath as thunder and venomous or shook through their scaly lips. Smooth sizzling scales came alive with dragon fire. At that moment, the scent of sulfur grew stronger as heat flashed against the group. Crimson and black flames swirled together with explosive power as the flesh melted from their bones like meat slipping from a bone after it was boiled. Sulfur filled Stannis's nose forcing him to recoil as hellish heat flashed against his skin and forced the air to come alive with black flames veined with red. 

The scent of burning flesh and hair filled his nose as he struggled to breathe. Stannis watched as their skin slipped from their bones as flesh bathed by deep black and red flames. Daenerys watched with bright eyes and fury burning in her stare as she turned that cold pinning stare to me. 

“The man that passes the sentence should swing the sword, your brother has been having middle men kill for him to hunt for him for years, hell you are facing death because he wasn't man enough to take our lives himself if he had then he would have been forced to admit the truth so now he will pay for that in blood. I Aegon Targaryen Sixth of my name King of the Andals and the First Men, the stallion who will mount the world, Khal of the great grass sea, the dragon wolf, Breaker of Chains, Father of dragons sentenced you to death for treason and murder. Rakharo holds him still.” Aegon spoke in a cold voice. 

Gripping tightly to the blade that played at his back a dangerous red aura formed around the blade as Stannis looked on with wide eyes he thought that the boy might keep him alive as a way to bargain with his brother but he didn't seem the least bit interested in that. He stalked over to Stannis and Stannis swore that he could see a proud look in the eyes of lords. As if they were happy to know that their king knew the Northern ways and he knew them well. 

His heart thundered in his ears, Stannis couldn't think straight he just knew that he was going to be dead, “Don't worry I'm not a savage I will have your body and head sent back to your brother, of course it will be sent separately for dramatic effect.” Aegon cracked a sarcastic smile as his face turned cold with resolve. 

For the first time ever Stannis felt him doing something that he never thought that he was going to do, he started to pray to the seven as the young boy freshly turned a man loomed over him power filling him as he hefted his blade over the head of Stannis and with a swift strike everything went black and a cool darkness eclipsed him for the last time. 

Meleys IV 

The roar of the camp filled Meleys ears as she looked at the Northern men that sat before her, they drank as much as the Dothraki and were standoffish at best when they first started out drinking earlier in the night. But after a few drinks even with the language barrier they were laughing and belching. 

“Hey,” Enyo spoke in a sweet soft voice. 

Meleys almost did not hear her over the roar of the crowd but she turned back to see the exhausted look that was resting in the birthing bed had a strange glow to her skin. She knew that she was still recovering but she could already see the fire that was filling her eyes. Meleys was no fool; she knew that Enyo was going to try and get onto the battlefield tomorrow or even the day after tomorrow. 

“Hey how are the triplets.” Meleys spoke with excitement in her heart. 

She heard her newest nieces and nephew already and she could not wait to see what kind of people and dragon lords they would grow up into or what her own children were going to be like. But more importantly she had been thinking about Viserys hearing his name in the meeting and threw her through a loop and she never thought that she would hear his name spoken of again. It was like everyone in the camp knew not to even dare mention his name. 

Aegon hid it well but Meleys could still see the venomous abhorrence that filled his stare each time that he was mentioned in any conversation. The Northerners were roaring and drinking with joy as Lyanna burst out into a fit of laughter joining them in their joy as she held Rhaego who was wide awake and filled with joy as he squealed with delight as he looked to all the screaming and laughing men. 

Meleys could see Aegon drinking with Rakharo and Jhogo both of whom were hard pressed to keep up with their Khal. Aggo was the only one refusing to drink despite Aegon ordering him to drink. Benjen had his wife hanging over him the same way that Enyo draped herself against the form of Aegon. 

Benjen held onto his wife while happily talking with his sister, and after Stannis there were hugs and tears exchanged between the two siblings. Occasionally, one of the bear island boys would make fun of Benjen saying that he was crying like a baby. 

The whole camp soared with levity still soaring high from the battle of the former battles of the east and the future battles to come. 

Black smoke leaped happily into the sky as they watched the boys and girls for a few moments. 

“They are sleeping dead to the world, I left a few of the guards with them and of course Nala is resting with them, she had three cubs, a gift from the gods for my children. They are the exact opposite of Rhaego when he was just born; they had slept since this afternoon. Though I am sure that I am going to regret that coming in the morning. But for now, it is nice to be at peace. I meant Lillian and Mya sweet girls and strong like their sister. Though I have yet to meet our uncle or the lords of the North though I suppose now is not the best time and I'm more than a little worn out I just wanted to make an appearance for mother and fathers sake.” Enyo rolled her eyes like she was over it, giving birth to three dragon lords is not easy. 

Meleys knew that and she also knew that the morning was going to come hard and fast; they all ended to be ready for what came next. She was fighting off her own urge to sleep but her racing mind helped her with that. 

“Mel?” Enyo questioned sweetly. 

Bumping her shoulder arm playfully as the young girl shifted her violet eyes to match her sisters smoke gray. 

“Viserys, he was here in Yunkai at one point, but I don't know why? Or where he is now? Doesn't it bug you to know that there is a member of our family out there being beaten and gods know what else.” Enyo spoke in a curious voice but Meleys laughed. 

“If the gods be good he is dead, he was a monster Mel, he would have fucked you, and killed you if it meant that he could have made it back to take what he perceives to be his. He made Daenerys life hell don't be that girl.” Enyo shook her head heavily as she noticed her husband staring at her. 

He was rushing his way over to them or at least trying as he pushed past northern men and Dothraki alike. There were a few unsullied but most of them were either sleeping or on sentry duty with the dragons. 

“What is that supposed to mean? '' Meleys felt like she should have been insulted so her voice rose to show her rage. 

It was not easy to hear over the roar of the men, but a few men noticed that they were having an argument when they followed the line of sight of their khal of khals. Among those watching them was Daenerys who was resting at the head table laughing and talking with Doreah, Missandei and the rest of her handmaidens. 

“The kind of girl that is so stupid and madly in love that they refused to see the monster hidden in the man before them. I mean really, he was a monster that deserved everything that he got and more. I have no pity for him. If he were here, he would have killed my son and Daenerys’ just so that he was one spot closer to the throne. If we see him again, I will kill him.” Enyo spoke so carelessly that it drove Meleys mad. 

“I'm not some pathetic little girl that needs to see the best in people, but he is our family, and you shouldn't wish him dead. He had a hard life….” Enyo laughed in Meleys face cutting off her voice 

“Boo fucking who, we all had hard lives that doesn’t give him the right to be a monster if you weren’t so pathetic you would have been able to see what he was that first day we met him.” She all but screeched as the twin began to argue, and Enyo had to fight every impulse that screamed to punch her. 

After the long day that both had they knew that they were not angry just exhausted, but it was too late and now all the eyes that were not wasted were locked in the arguing twins. 

“Enyo ease up, Meleys she didn't mean that she is just exhausted.” Aegon spoke but Meleys was not stupid. 

She shoved her brother angrily as he leered at them both, “Don't pretend like you don't agree with her, you are glad that he is gone, you would be happier if he was dead. Wouldn't you?!” Meleys spoke in an accusatory voice as Aegon let out a heavy breath. 

His head was heavy and his mind cluttered from all the drinking he knew that he should not speak that he would say the truth if he did but his lips were moving before his mind and body could stop him. 

“I'll kill him myself if I didn't think that it would curse me, he is a monster I won't have in our family if he were just going to keep plotting against us. I am sorry that we do not live in your perfect little bubble where everything goes right. We live in the real world where bad shit happens, and we shouldn't have to worry about our own family causing some of that bad shit.” Aegon screamed and she was outraged. 

But she did not know what words the right ones would be, so she was left stammering before she rushed off leaving Aegon to huff and an angry voice to fill the air. 

“What did you say to her?” Lyanna spoke in a reprimanding voice.

“Nothing momma…” Aegon spoke but his voice was growing distant as Meleys stomped over to Silverwing knowing that a midnight ride would calm her nerves she could only hope that tomorrow would be better though she knew that their hatred for Viserys would not change unless they were given a reason. But Meleys just knew that Viserys came back differently than he had to. 

Third Person III

Soldiers gallop through the barren landscape outside Yunkai. Daenerys Targaryen, Ser Jorah, and Ser Barristan watch them from a distance, hidden in a crag. They are wrapped in drab fabrics to manage the heat of the desert. Aegon was off with the dragons and the Northern men that were resting in the camp. 

“Men who fight for gold have neither honor nor loyalty. They cannot be trusted.” Ser Barristan spoke in a matter of fact voice.

Daenerys knew what her husband would say, they did not need to be honorable if they were skilled killers and never crossed them. 

“They can be trusted to kill you if they're well paid. The Yunkish are paying them well.” Ser Jorah spoke gravely.

In the night while they were partying and rejoicing, they were planning and gathering forces. 

“You know these men?” Daenerys questioned them. 

Her mind raced about how she could get them to side with her, but one thing is for sure they could not bring Aegon not with this one. They are less like to say no with her then they were with Aegon, he wanted a fight he wanted them to dead before his might and force the rest of the cities to bucks but she wouldn't put innocent people at risk 

“Only by the broken swords on their banners. They are called the Second Sons. A company led by a Braavosi named Mero, "The Titan's Bastard.” Ser Jorah spoke in a cool voice. 

“Is he more titan or bastard?” Daenerys questioned 

“He's a dangerous man, Khalessi. They all are. Maybe involving Aegon or Enyo would be best.” Ser Jorah spoke cautiously.

But Daenerys refused; she knew that they were dealing with their own problems with Meleys and with the new babes she knew that Enyo would be busy with the triplets. Neither one of them would have time to deal with such a small matter so this task fell to her.

“How many?” Daenerys questioned Ser Jorah's suggestion.

“Two thousand, Your Grace. Armored and mounted. Your grace they are not the only ones notice the Storm crows Two thousand as well Armored and mounted. That is four thousand men mounted and ready for a fight.” Ser Jorah spoke in a cautious voice.

“Enough to make a difference?” Daenerys doubted with all the dragon and the unsullied as well as the Dothraki and now the Northern men it would be quick work.

Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah shook their heads heavily as if they knew that it would not matter but it would make the battle just a little bit more difficult that did not mean that it wouldn't be better to save the extra man power and use it for the take down. 

“It's hard to collect wages from a corpse. I'm sure the sales words prefer to fight for the winning side.” Daenerys spoke in a knowing voice. 

There was a smug smile on her face as she looked up to see a black dragon darted through the thick vast clouds hiding his dangerous brilliance from the eastern city but he could feel the heat of his stare. 

“I imagine you're right.” Ser Jorah spoke in an amused voice. 

“I'd like to talk to the Titan's Bastard and the captain of the stone Crows about winning.” Daenerys spoke as she leered at the men knowing that they could be an asset to their already large forces. 

“They may not agree to meet.” Ser Jorah spoke in a doubtful voice as his eyes darkened in color. 

“They will. A man who fights for gold can't afford to lose to a girl.” Daenerys spoke in a smug voice. 

As they planned their next move Aegon was in camp speaking of a future of his own with someone that he thought he would never meet. Benjen crept through the camp leaving from the South until he was resting in an obsidian sand colored pit. Aegon was the spitting image of his father but he had the stark build. 

His fingers were running along the snout of his dragon. He had just come back from a ride to clear his mind. He was antsy he did not like to begin at this meeting with the sellsword, but he knew that his wife had a point. He was angry and did not want to do diplomacy not with these kinds of men. 

He wanted a good fight, but I also know that trying to talk through things was the best at least for now. He let out a heavy breath feeling his chest collapsed as he thought back to her sister who were now at each other's throats. Enyo wanted Viserys dead and she was not the only one which meant that more than a few of the Targaryen in this camp were at odds with her. 

Though of course their father agrees with her that if they found him, he deserves a second chance but Aegon did not want to give him a chance to terrorize their children the way that he did Daenerys. 

“Aegon?” Benjen spoke careful of how he walked into the clearing. 

Ares leered at the man, his red slit eyes weren't like the sight of him but he simply snorted black smoke leaving the dragon's lips as Aegon slowly turned, never letting his hands fall from the snout of the crimson dragon. 

“Hello uncle Benjen.” There was a warm smile on Argons face as he spoke. 

He knew that he had been all over the place in the two days that the Northern men had been here but had a lot on his plate and not a lot of support. He knew that the western men thought that he was too young to lead while the Unsullied and the Dothraki followed with reverence and pride in their stares. 

Aegon knew that when you are forced to hide in secret you are forced to grow up faster than any one of them would like. We will all except Meleys she got the Normal life and Aegon knew that was why Enyo was so angry with her sure it had something to do with Viserys but not all of it was about him. 

“I'm shocked that you aren't with the other preparing for the sell swords to come.” Benjen spoke

Aegon smiled sadly at him as he looked over to the purple dragon the color of poison resting constantly let's bound up then before Enyo gave birth but Aegon knew the dragon would be never calm until Enyo mounted her which could take some time. 

“It's for the best that I don't go to the meeting, Helios is there so I will be able to see all that is going on but personally that is the right choice. I don't want peace with this city, I sold my uncle into slavery that much is true, he was a monster, he had Gerold killed, torture Daenerys her whole life, and the way that he looked at Enyo like she was something to be owned and mounted as he pleased…..” Aegon scoffed angry as his hand was still on the burning snout of Ares. 

“The way that he looked at all of us like we were nothing more than objects in his path to be moved around as he pleased. He was just as bad as Robert nothing was going to change that but a major shock to the system. But these people are true monsters treating people like objects. It disgusts me and I was always taught to handle injustice with justice and to use force to back up my principles. Not placate my enemies.” Aegon let out a heavy breath as he rubbed his brow wearily leaning into the massive shoulder of the crimson dragon. 

Benjen couldn't help but smile the way that he rubbed his temple the same way that Ned and their father did it, but he would never tell him that, he knew that it would be more likely to anger him then calm him. 

“Rhaegar taught you that?” Benjen spoke as he walked closer to Aegon. 

The young boy laughed as he shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips as warmth flooded his eyes. She thought about something amazing. 

“My mother actually, she taught me the old ways of the North and she taught me about the martial arts. My father does not like fighting no matter how skilled he might be with a blade. She taught me how to ride a horse and wield my mind as well as my blade. She used to tell me that Starks never knew how to play the game so I would have to.” Aegon shrugged his shoulder. 

But Benjen could see the way that Aegon lit up when it came to his mother, there was pride and love in his eyes like he did not blame his mother for the life that he was living now. How could he, he was a king, a khal and one of the first dragon riders in a long time. That could not help but bring some pride to Benjen’s heart as well. 

“What game would that be?” Benjen questioned softly as Aegon shifted his stare to the rider that was going to bring the head of Stannis back to the king. A Northern man that did not fear death and wanted to bring the head. 

“The game of Thrones, they have been playing with words, I'm going to play with fire and blood. Break the dynasty that thought they could end my family with nothing but a whimper, I'm not a sleeping babe or a little girl if I die it will be on the battlefield securing a place for my children in the future. After Meereen I'm heading to Asshai I should be able to fly there by then.” Aegon spoke in a cool voice. 

His eyes drawn to the sky he was determined to take the whole east, and Benjen could not help but be proud. 

“Well when that happens you will have the Northern men at your back, but I must ask when you plan on heading west?” Benjen felt his brows working up in silent questions. 

Aegon seemed to still like he was not expecting that question but after a few moments he spoke. 

“We can ride our dragons but not for long the older they get the stronger they will become for at least another couple years but that doesn’t matter. The Blackfyre is ripping apart the west and letting him shatter the kingdoms a bit longer. We will come in and mop up the kingdoms and Roberts mess all in one shot.” Aegon spoke in such a matter of fact voice like he could see into the future. 

Benjen couldn't help the swelling sense that Aegon knew exactly what he was doing but he could not help the small part of him that hopped in that time during the war that Ned comes to his senses which is unlikely but he had to hope. 

While they counted to talk Daenerys was an entertaining guest with pointed blades and a dangerous energy. 

An open tent outside of Yunkai rested with Daenerys and Helios, Enyo was resting with her children after spending all morning training trying to get back into shape and ready for a battle by the time that they got to Meereen. 

Barristan stood next to the three captains of the Second Sons; first there was Mero a Braavosi, who was tall with pale green eyes and a long, bushy red-gold beard. While he appears amiable, he has an evil reputation, which has made it hard for the Second Sons to find work under his command which is not all that shocking. 

The man beside him was Prendahl, a dark-skinned man with thick brown hair and dark brown eyes that was cold and detached and finally next to him was the last of the captains. Darrio, Daario is lithe and smooth skinned with bright, deep blue eyes which can appear almost purple. His curly hair reaches his collar, and he keeps his beard cut in three prongs.

His fingernails are also enameled blue. Daario's mustachios are painted gold, and he has a large, curving nose. A golden tooth gleams in his mouth. Daenerys knew that if Aegon was here he might have laughed, and Enyo might have even taunted him if given the chance. She had to avoid smiling as she sat before them. Missandei was at her side a cautious look forming on her face like she wanted to know what she should make of the men before them. 

Daenerys turned to look at the captain of the Stormcrow’s Ben Plumm who is an aging man, but still fit. He has a broad, weathered face, brown skin, a broken nose, and grey-white hair. He has a salt and pepper beard. He has large, dark, almond shaped Dothraki eyes that he inherited from his mother. There are wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. But there was also this twinkle like he wanted nothing more than to get a second look at the dragons that were resting just outside of the tent. 

“Your Grace, allow me to present the captains of the Second Sons- Mero of Braavos, Prendahl na Ghezn, and: Daario Naharis, and Ben Plumm of the Storm Crows.” Ser Barristan spoke in a cool voice. Looking over each of them with doubt before making his way over to his Queens side. 

Mero stepped forward and Helios roared with hatred daring him to move any closer, in that moment it was like the men finally noticed that they were not alone. The massive white lion stalked around the men watching each of them with a human-like intelligence that made Daenerys think that her husband was watching her through the eyes of the lion. 

“You are the Mother of Dragons? I swear I fucked you once in a pleasure house in Lys.” He joked as if his words had no cornice. 

Missandei bristled and Helios roared louder a flash of blue fluttered against the tent as Oceanus rushed into the room. As if little Rhaego had sent the dragon in to watch out for his mother. The dragon was growing fast, and Daenerys knew that soon he would be the size of a horse. 

The moment that they notice the blue dragon Darrio and Plumm’s eyes lit up as Mero fought the urge to jump back letting his eyes run lazily over the dragon and Lion like they meant nothing to him. 

“Mind your tongue.” Ser Jorah roared and shared his blue eyes darkening to the color of Oceanus as a sneer started to form on his face. 

Missandei was leering at the man as Grey Worm's face twisted like he wanted to put this man before him in his place, but he was here to watch and trust in his queen. Who even sat in her elegant red and black dress had blades hidden in the silk folds? 

Mero kept stalking closer as Daenerys waved off her attendants off she was not afraid of this man that rested before her, Helios was less than happy but he settled at the feet of the queen while Oceanus sat to her right ready to rip him apart if he did even a single thing wrong, Mero moved to sit on her bench invading her space and still she held her men and beast back as Daario and Prendahl sat nearby. 

Ben looked mortified at what his brother in arms are doing but then again they really aren't his brother in arms but just people he was paid to fight alongside if they got killed for their arrogance so be it. Ben much like the rest of the men noticed that her sister wife and husband both were not here. Does that mean that they thought that they could do as they please with this queen and get away with it? 

“Why? I did not mind hers. She licked my ass like she was born to do it.” As Mero spoke waggles his tongue suggestively at Daenerys. 

She does not react but the same could not be said for Helios he looked to be sleeping but his claws accidentally swiped against the man's ankles. White claws were now painted red as Mero let out a yelp in pain, he looked down at the Lion looking ready to kick him when Oceanus roared. 

Daenerys could not help but hide her smile as he thought about her husband who must have told Helios to do that. There were times that he could be jealous and petty like the children that people thought them to be and she couldn't help but find that amusing.

“Why you little shit! You, slave girl, bring wine.” He growled angrily as he leered at the loin daring him to do it again.

Daenerys ran her hand tenderly along the snout of Oceanus, his sizzling skin forcing a warmth to bubble in her stomach and her heart as she smiled warmly despite the hatred and venom that bult in her body for the man before her. 

“We have no slaves here.” Dany spoke in a cordial blank voice. 

“You'll all be slaves after the battle unless I save you. Take your clothes off and come and sit on Mero's lap and I may give you my Second Sons.” Mero spoke in a crude voice. 

But Daenerys was as good as she got, “Give me your Second Sons and I may not have you gelded. Ser Barristan, how many men fight for the Second Sons?”

“Under two thousand, Your Grace.” Ser Barristan spoke plainly. 

“Right and correct me if I am wrong but we have 6 dragons that can be ridden into battle, 8,000 unsullied, 50,000 Dothraki, and the Northern men that is about 10,000 what is the lousy 2,000 men of the second sons and the meager 2,000 of the storm crows going to do to us. My Balerion killed much more than 4,000 men and at a much younger age then he is now.” Daenerys' voice was smug. 

Missandei begins to pour them wine as Ben was quick to speak, “He does not speak for the Storm Crow's, your grace, give us the gold, and we would happily fight for you. But if I may ask your husband, where is he?” Ben Plumm was polite even with his slight against the queen. 

As if she was incapable of doing business without him, she fought the urge to sneer as she looked over to the young men that sat before her then possible ally in Ben Plumm. 

“Preparing the dragons for war, tomorrow we are going to burn the gate down and let out men storm the city. What little men that you do have will be burned alive and our dragons will feast on your flesh. Make no mistake, I do not need my husband to handle matters of war. Ser Jorah.” Daenerys spoke in a cold calling voice. 

Her own temper was threatening to get the best of her soon enough with this man she couldn't take it much longer. The men of the second sons drank deeply as they watched the exchange between the storm crows and the dragon Queen. A rather reluctant Ser Jorah brought out 6 chests of pure gold from Qarth.

“The chest of gold for each company and plenty more riches when we sack not just these cities but many more in both the east and the west. You can deny me and run away at the last minute during the battle, but we plan to take all the east before heading west there will be no place for you to hide. No place that our hordes will not reach makes quick work of your host.” Dany spoke and all the men watched the gold twinkling in the morning light. 

A dangerous aura swirled around the women before the mast the air changed it grew pressurized as her eyes began to darken and hate fluttered across her face only for a short moment but enough for them to know now to mess with her. 

“Do you think that we are fools, a little girl cannot conquer anything let alone all of the east? You are better off sucking my cock then leading men into battle.” Mero taunted her once more only this time it was far more malicious. 

Ben looked to be thinking about the offer for a moment, not sure of what to say but Mero was too busy looking down the silks of Daenerys dress. She would no longer take his disrespect there was rage filling her chest. She had a sweet smile on her face though as she began to lift her silk sitting on the lap of Mero like he wanted. 

Helios roared with rage but what he did not see was her hand rifling through the silks of her dress while another hand trailed her fingers along his chest. A warm flirty smile pulled at her lips as she grinned letting his hands rest on her hips. She had to fight the urge to be revealed as her right hand finally curled around the smooth leather of the dagger. 

She gripped so tightly that she feared her skin would split over her knuckles, but her body was warm and calm and did not betray her true nature until it was too late. Before the titan could even move his hands from her waist Dany moved with starting speed slitting his throat and felt the warm spray of blood flush against her face. 

Painting her golden skin red as she heard the sharp gasp and movement of metal.

“What a repulsive man” Daenerys spoke as she threw her legs over his lap.

Dropping down back on her seat as the man before her was gripping at his throat trying to stop the blood that came from the room. 

Prendahl jumped to get to his feet, gripping tightly at his sword but Helios darted through the tent with startling speed. Lurching form his back legs that are tensing with power and purpose, as gleaming incisors ripped into his flesh. A loud chomp could be heard as thick teeth clamped around his throat. Guttural screams and wet aps of breath were filling the air. 

Ser Jorah seemed pleased with his student and glad that the fool was dead, Ser Jorah was shocked and did not know what to say but he wanted as the second captain was beginning to devour. All the while Oceanus fell on Mero with a murderer hunger his thick black teeth clamped on his face and bright blue flames surged from his throat bathing the man's face in flames as the scent of using flesh fielded the air. 

Grey Worm cracked a small smile knowing that if the Queen did not kill them then he would have, even Missandei a sweet and gentle soul was revolted with the man Mero was glad to see that he was dead. As Daenerys rubbed her blade against her red silks, she watched the blood-stained blade. 

But for Ben the choice was simple he would rather live then die, “Your grace you have the Storm Crows.” He spoke with conviction. 

While Daario was smiling as if this amused him, he looked over the queen with a newfound respect. She was not just something to be gawked at and stared at, she was a warrior and a dragon. A conqueror to be both feared and loved in equal measure. 

“Well you are the last captain of the Second Sons what will you do now?” Daenerys questioned sweetly as she began to rise. 

Oceans were chomping heavily on the dead man as his claws ripped upward turning his rib cage to splinters, Helios had long since lost interest in his meal, he killed him because he was a threat not because he was meant to be the Lions dinner. It was funny they did not want Aegon or Enyo here because they feared they would kill the Sell Swords and it was the very thing that Daenerys died. 

“I would have to change my banner to a three headed dragon, your grace. The Second sons fight for you as well. When do we attack?” He questioned as Daenerys ran a hand through her blood-soaked hair. 

“At nightfall be ready. Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan go with them to collect their men, and Daario if you think about betraying me if my men sense even the least bit of deceit in your actions then my dragons will burn your camp I have at least one of them watching your camp right about now so be careful.” Daenerys spoke in a cold manner and her body was ready to move onto the next battle. 

Her blood was up and she was no longer worried about waiting for the slaves to be freed, the masters would be put in their place and then they would go to Meeren where she might see her brother for the first time in a long time. What would he think of her only? Only time would tell. 

The morning came quickly, Grey Worm and the others were resting just out of the range of the city hidden in the cover of darkness, but the golden city knew that there was something going on. The loud ringing of bells could be heard jingling. They either saw the men mobilizing or they found out because someone told them, but they had their eyes on Daario and Plumm this whole time, so they knew that it was not them or their men. 

Aegon watched the silver clouds drifted lazily through the black sky as his heart thumped wildly as excitement forced his hands to shake. But there was also this worry as he turned to look at his second wife. Enyo was well rested, her arms strong and sure with a blade resting on her back. As she made her approach to the pit Toxicana head snapped up with a hunger.

Meleys had sat on the back of Silverwing and the dragon had been tensing and angry with both Toxicana and Ares. Aegon knew that Meleys feelings toward him and Enyo were the reason that the three dragons were not getting along now. 

“This is not wise.” Aegon pleaded with his wife. 

He knew that he could try to command her but that would only end with him sleeping on the floor and getting yelled at. He was under no impression who ran their marriage just like he was under no impression who ran his marriage with Daenerys. Rhaegar and Daenerys had already taken to the sky. 

With a thunderous flap of her wings, Silverwing took off into the air with Meleys leering at them one last time before taking off into the air. Aegon was staring at her soft yet exasperated gray eyes and shimmering silver and white hair ruffled in the wind as her hand was trailing the long coiling neck of Toxicana.

“We are not doing this again; I'm going into battle. I did not keep up with my training to sit on the sidelines. I will not be the helpless wife and I will not lose my figure like Rhaenyra did after having all those kids. I will not be some sack of flesh and fat.” Enyo roared at Aegon, forcing him to burst out into a fit of laughter. 

Slowly and carefully he mounted Ares as he sat on his beast back, his body settling into a calm lull as he shook his head heavily. Of course, this had something to do with her needing to keep her good figure. If there was one thing that she took pride in it was her busty and curvy form, she would often say that she was the goddess of war and sex personified. 

It made him laugh but he knew that it was true she had a lusty beauty to her that drove him mad, he wanted to ravage her each time that he saw her. 

“Yes, dear whatever you say dear” Aegon rolled his eyes playfully as she smiled at him. 

“It is about time that you learned that everyone women just wanted her husband to do as they were told.” Enyo let out a husky giggle. 

Aegon looked down to the crimson scales singing in the light, Ares’ smooth scales felt warm to the touch. As Toxicana lowered her body, her tail swishing in anticipation, his poisonous green eyes shimmering like rubies in the light as Enyo brushed her hand gently against her leather pants as if to rub off worried sweat but Aegon knew better she wasn't the least bit worried but excited.

Her silver and white hair was shimmering with sweat as she made her way over to Toxicana slow yet sure of herself like she had done this a thousand times. Aegon felt like he could hear her mind screaming with excitement as she began to climb onto Toxicana’s wing.

Toxicana jerked her shoulders just a bit to help Enyo climb a little bit better, though Aegon could see how impatient the dragon got as she could all but taste the ashes from the coming battle filling her mouth. Aegon could all but hear the roar of the wind in his ears as his finger gripped tightly to the speak of Ares and a spark rushed through them both as the connection grew strong. 

Enyo sat firmly on Toxicana’s back as she sat there like she belonged there, though she was not sure what to make of her hands. 

“What do I hold on to?” She said, confused if not worried.

“Whatever you can, but I have to warn you, you might see something that you have never done before.” Aegon did not say it right but he was thinking about the mark on his hand. 

His father and sister did not have marks but he, and Dany did and something in him screamed that Enyo would have that same mystical connection with her own dragon. At first, she did not know what her brother meant but as she gripped the spikes of the Toxicana neck something dark fell over her face as Aegon watched. 

For Enyo it might have been hours but for Aegon it was a blink of an eye, she looked down at her palm and found that there was a dragon mark resting on it. But neither of them had time to think about it. They took off high in the sky, the wind roaring in their ears as the hunger for battle was more than either of them could push down. 

There were sixth dragons soaring through the air. They knew if they were flying through the sky during the day then they would hear people gasping as they flew over the city.

“Sōvegon” Enyo whispered sweetly into the east of her dragon as joy flooded her chest.

She looked down in pride as there were 8,000 unsullied, 50,000 Dothraki and 10,000 northern men that she barely got to know in the two days that they had been here but tonight they will be in the great hall of the g reset of the pyramids.

“What took you so long dear daughter?” Rhaegar spoke tone teasing 

A mocking grin had formed on his face as Enyo saw the loving twinkle in his eyes, but he did not fool her; she knew that he was just as worried as Aegon. She was not some flower and she would not have them treating her as such. She forced herself to smile as she grinned at Daenerys who did not seem the least bit worried about her. 

A large golden wall loomed over them as Enyo leaned into Toxicana. This just seemed to be perfect for this, like she was meant to be in the air. A hunger filled her body as a fire built in her lower stomach as her bones turned to iron. 

The wind whipped at her curls as she looked at the walls, taunting her as men rushed to man the oil and the catapults. Hidden beneath the wall resting just outside of the reach of the gate. While men lined the walls. There was a fear settling deep in their bones.

Men dressed in deep bronze and steel plating loomed just beneath them, power bloomed deep in her chest as a hunger-built flooding over her rational mind. 

“Dracys” Enyo spoke in a whisper but all the dragons seemed to hear it, darting purple came bursting forth with power and force. Black and Crimson flames were darting after the men while jade, white, and silver flames blackened the wood of the gate until it was nothing but splinters. 

Fear plastered on their faces and panic gripped them, but none ran at least they had bravery, smoke danced in the silver moonlight, smoke and sulfur mingled in the air as it flooded the noses of the young dragon lords. The scent of flesh filled Enyo’s nose, as some of the men wither away to ash in seconds, while others had their flesh blackened and boiled as pus exploded from their wounds in thick milky white steam, the scent of shit follows right before their skin melted clean from their bones.

The men roared as they went rushing into the city; men screamed in a panic as they were slaughtered as arrows were sent back and forth. The roar of the battle was nothing compared to the roar of the dragon's rage and hate that burned in their chest today was the day that they broke down everything that they hated about the east. 

Slave soldiers rushed through the red sands, their shoes, and boots slapping against the sand as the Unsullied cold and disciplined marched through the sands. No longer content with watching others fight the Dothraki slammed their feet against their horse side darting through the hole created by dragon fire. Helios darted through the city gates, claws slashing and hacking ripping the tender flesh from his body. 

The slave soldiers stared at us in utter confusion. They pitied the slave soldiers, but they would not pull their punches not if they were protecting the people that broke them down. Grey Worm could see it in their eyes, their cold beady eyes flashed bright fear that told him that he would make quick work of them. 

Most of them were cleanly shaven with terror burning in their boyish features, their weapons were shaking as their hands trembled at the sight of the soldiers. Grey Worm’s leather clung tightly to his chest as the heat forced sweat to drip down his back. Taking in a deep breath he could feel his blood rushing through his veins, burning his skin, not the least bit afraid of the battle before him. 

He thrust his blade blonde darling and crimson dipped down the shaft forcing it to grow slippery, his thrust and parries were without question the best of the warrior. The black luster of his shield shimmering in the moonlight forced the silver light to hit the face of the men right before he thrust his spear into his chest. 

Benjen was moving at his side instructed by the sight of the bloody warrior and his skill, he moved more awkward and clumsy over the ever-shifting sands but Benjen fought as hard as he could so that he could make it back to his family. 

Slicing his blade through the thin leather black armor, Benjen hacked and slashed in true western style, blood erupted from the boy’s face, the right side of his face slid from his body. Thick gummy red muscles stared back at Benjen as blood spurted from his face. The light in his eyes died as he collapsed to the ground.

He could not help but pity the man as he continued to lurch forward-looking over to see his wife and her mace slamming into the heads of young men watching as their eyes exploded with pressure from the blow. Their foreheads cave in denting inwards as a sickening crunch and crack could be heard. 

Benjen thought that guilt might fill him, but his heart pounded even faster, a new wave of bloodlust slammed against him. Lyra was with them fighting side by side with Lord Glover both hooting and hollering with joy in their eyes as they bashed skull and made the ground quake before them. 

Benjen swung his blade down with all his might; their panic cries were the last thing that Benjen heard as they fell to the ground in a bloody mess. Panic screeches of terror filled the air as he sliced through them till there was nothing left. What was left of them ran away leaving him drenched in sweat and my arms filled with blood and gore?

The soft drips filled Benjen's ears, the Targaryens forces took what was left of the force with ease, dragons roared overhead as sporadic flames rained down on the wall burning apart the siege weapons and men that rested atop. 

Yunkai had fallen and there was only one city left. 

Meeren than the rest of the east would have no where to hide. 


	40. Sever Heads and Battles

Garlan I

It had been a few months since the first attack at Horn Hill they appeared from the shadows and were gone just as fast, but the moment has come for the reach to get payback. Garlan was happy that his sister was in the North safe from the harm that would come with this coming war. The north had nothing but warm bodies and precious gems. There was no tactile value so he knew that the North would be stormed by the enemy.

They would come from the shadows once more and they could not do that. They had to be ready and if that meant storming Dorne then so be it. A hunger flooded Garlan's chest as he looked up to the bright blue sky with bright white clouds that did nothing to shake away the constant heat. It was driving him nuts he could not stand it.

Dorne is the hottest region of Westeros. The region is rocky, mountainous, arid, and dry, and features the only desert on the continent. Dorne is bordered by the Sea of Dorne to the north, the islands known as the Stepstones to the east, and the Summer Sea to the south. Stretched between them are the mountain range is known as the Red Mountains, which separates Dorne from the Stormlands to the north and the Reach to the northwest and west.

It was those mountains that Garlan now climbed in the hopes of getting to Sunspear and the Water gardens both were under the control of the Martells so they would be the first to fall. The gritting of sand in his mouth the splashing heat of the sand as it ground against his skin. There was nothing that Garlan wanted more than to go home and see his wife. 

His boots were shifting in the stand as he struggled to keep going even though every muscle in his body told him to stop. His eyes were scanning the rocks and caves that provided little shade of protection from the harsh winds and sun. Garlan would have dropped his armor if not for the fact that there were monsters lurking in the shadows.

“We should stop,” Dickon spoke in a cold voice.

When Garlan looked over his shoulder he could see the young man of Hornhill that would soon be the lord often Hornhill. There was darkness in the young man's eyes. He hated Martells now more than ever since they attacked his home. But he was a green boy with only one battle under his belt. He thinks that he is a warrior.

“If we stop now, we are sitting ducks. We will keep going” Garlan spoke in a commanding voice.

He wanted his young vassal lord to know that this was not up for discussion. There was a sneer on his face as he kept moving forward, not letting anyone tell him different, but he should have listened. He would learn that was the wrong choice even as he talked with his young lord there are men creeping in the shadow among them the red viper of Dorne.

There was this steady silence only the buzz of the air-filled Garlan’s ears as he looked to the whipping Baratheon flag and the golden rose of the Tyrells fluttering in the slow settling silence. The strange silence, the stilling of the wind, it did not sit right with Garlan; he could tell that there was something wrong even if he did not admit it.

Then it came at them like a tidal wave slamming against them as a black curtain of rain came rushing on them but this was a metallic rain that slammed against their skin-piercing their tender flesh and thick armor finding the chink in the armor.

Garlan snapped his head up watching as they melted from the shadows slipping from the hidden cave systems that connected the red mountains. Among them was the harsh-eyed viper his spear thrust high into the air as he gave orders and commands. Volleys of arrows came rushing from the caves.

“Shields!!” Garlan roared as he dropped from his horse just in time.

Arrows perceived the tender flesh of the horses that had once held its rider, men struggled and screamed to their shields dodging the best that they could. The was a constraint buzzing of arrows as the wailing screaming of men filled the air as the wild neighs of horses filled the air. Garlan looked around watching as men darted from the caves only, they did not have bows and arrows but knives, spears, whips, and swords.

Garlan gripped tightly to his blade, a sword rested in his right mailed hand as a hunger burned in his body, his thin lips pulled into a tight lip sneer. He was going to fight and die but that did not mean that he was going to die this day of all days. Oberyn sat on a horse above it all that smug smile on his face as his men began to reload their bow.

Pulling Heartsbane into Dickon’s grasp a parting gift from his father that went to the capital to help coordinate the military efforts. The blade had a brilliant glow to it, the golden aura and shimmering steel spirals were a sight to behold. There was no Valyrian blade in house Tyrell but that would change once this war was over Garlan family will be awarded a Valyrian steel blade for his trouble.

Garlan only had 10,000 men any larger of a force and they would have been sitting ducks for the small force of men that Martell employed. Even now they were half the size of their force and yet they were making quick work slashing and hacking down the reach men as arrows came raining down to reach forces, but Garlan was not stopping.

As the arrows gleamed in the golden rays of the sun Garlan watched as Oberyn's eyes hardened and his lips curled into a sneer. It took only a moment for his own blood lust to begin to consume from him.

Without doubt or hesitation, he darted through the open sandy fields, his men followed them, Garlan knew that if they could outrun the arrows, they would be on top of them within minutes. The tense air, it felt like Garlan could feel every shift in the air as his body came alive with adrenaline. Blood rushed in Garlan’s ears.

“Kill these Blackfyre dogs!!” Garlan roared with fury.

Madness and hysteria swirled around Garlan even from here he could feel the flush of heat and the frenzied roar of men. A stampede broke out as he slammed my sword before the first person that he saw.

His eyes were crazed with fear but that did not stop Garlan from killing him, Garlan slammed his sword through his chainmail watching as his eyes widened with doubt and the once bright consuming light fell from his eyes.

The men swirled around Garlan dread filling their eyes as they roared with pride and joy, the path was too slim for a horse like the rich men they were forced to crawl through the sand but they were far more light on their feet because they were used to running in the sand. Heart pounding terror filled the chest of the men knowing that this might be a lost cause.

Though Garlan wouldn't stop he wouldn't die here to men weaker than him he was aware that his reach was weak in fighting power but he was not the reach he was one man with training that lasted 20 something years he would not fall here. Garlan pulled his blade from the chest of one of his victims before running after the next man slowly making his way up the incline.

Shrieks and panic cries from men filled Garlan’s ears as the snapping of bones filled his ears as men collided together in a bloody mess. In the madness of men slamming against Garlan, he tumbled to the ground forcing his teeth to scrape against his cheeks as the copper taste of blood filled his mouth. But that would not stop him. He jumped up to his feet, he rushed through the sand struggling to keep his stance as he rushed up the hill hoping to find the general of this battle and kill him.

Pouring all the power and force into his body he lurched upwards and he brought the blade down into the slits of a Dornish helm, the soft wet pop of his eyes exploding to fill Garlan's ears. He gripped tightly to the dagger resting in his boot, turning to look at a man rushing at him. He flung the blade with ease watching as it sunk into the middle of his skull right where the silt of the helm rested.

Wailing screams filled the ears of rich men; they began to slaughter, but Garlan was not stopping; he kept hacking and slashing a one-man army with only Dickon at his side to keep them both from dying.

Garlan pivoted sharply on his heels, noticing men rushing around him the battlefield was erupting into a choice, but his gaze was locked on Oberyn. His shining black hair stuck out since he was one of the few men that did not have armor on.

Garlan slammed his blade hard against a man dressed in boiled leather. It was no real armor, but it helped him move around quickly. He watched blood erupt from his chest, his eyes were wide with doubt, and the sight of blood erupting into the air sending animal and man alike into a frenzy. Fear rolled off them in toxic waves they did not look any closer to backing down.

Garlan lurched forward with immense speed, only the sharply tangy taste of copper blood on his lips told him that his blade sunk deep into the meaty shoulder of one man right after the other. Garlan was drenched in the blood of the young men before me, he didn't even realize it until a red film ran over his eyes as he blinked rapidly, and then in an instance, Oberyn and his men were gone before he knew what was going on.

His mind would have time to breathe and think, men rushed around him, but he knew what was happening. There was an army some were marching to Storm Ends ready to attack and kill all that stood before them the Blackfyre was far from down.

* * *

Maegor IV

Storm's End is surrounded by a massive outer curtain wall, one hundred feet high and forty feet thick on its thinnest side and nearly eighty feet thick on its seaward side. It is composed of a double course of pale grey stone with an inner core of sand and rubble. The wall is smooth and curving, the stones so well placed and so perfectly together that the wind can find no purchase. On the seaward side, there is one hundred fifty-foot drop below the wall into the sea. There is no safe anchorage by the castle. Not that it matters they were moved by land and now they were coming for the men that rested in the land.

Renly was lord of Storm's End, yet he was not here what kind of lord was he, Maegor let out a laugh he would handle them soon enough. Storm's End has only one tower, a colossal drum tower crowned with formidable battlements, making it look like a huge, spiked fist thrusting towards the sky from afar. It would be an east conquest but then again, they thought the same thing about Griffin Roost no one knew that there were reinforcements in that castle who is the stay that there aren't reinforcements at this castle either.

The green rolling hills of the Stormlands stared back at Maegor, he looked in the direction of Dorne knowing that right now there were hit and run raids going on just like in the olden days. The thought forced him to smile as he leaned back on his warhorse.

The thunderous steps of the army filled Maegor’s ears as he looked over Jon; he insisted on coming to this conquest before settling back into Griffin Roost. Jon stared at Maegor from the back of his own stallion. The dew that lightly covered the trampled grass that came from a fresh rain the night before.

Maegor wished that he had a dragon that he was riding into battle on the back of a dragon with power and money all that he needed to take the castle but he knew that was not going to happen. But at least he might be able to get that dragon egg, his eyes went to the capital of the Stormlands. He knew that once upon a time the Baratheons had dragon blood, maybe just maybe there were eggs in the castle.

He was growing impatient his false cousin went to the east in the hopes of finding more dragon eggs and yet he didn't have any letters or reports to show for his efforts there was nothing but this silence and it was driving Maegor nuts. He looked over every inch of the landscape before taking in a deep breath hoping that there were dragon eggs hidden in the depth of the castle he knew, and he would find them.

Jon looked over to his young king and knew that he was becoming more and more obsessed with the eggs and less focused on taking the seven kingdoms. Once more that doubt reared its ugly head. He did not want to doubt his king, but he did not have much of a choice. There was an ominous shadow looming over this boy's head and Jon would not stop until he found out what it is

“You’re so tense Jon, killing is the sweetest thing there ever is, and we are going to win this battle, the men of Storms End are few we will win,” Maegor spoke in a cool voice.

But he was not a fool he knew that there was something storming in the mind of the new warden of the Stormlands he knew that sooner or later he would have to deal with Jon but he wanted all that he could rip from his first. Once he had all that he needed he would kill him if need be or banish him to the Stormlands for the rest of his life. 

There was a sneer pulling at the lips of Jon as he thought about the Baratheon and all that he lost because of them. Taking in a deep breath his chest began to expand as Maegor examined their forces Griffin roost was well stocked. The West had been preparing for war this past 2 years.

They must have known for a while that the Targaryens were coming for them but they didn't think that it would be the Blackfyre that had come for them but sooner or later all would meet on the field the three sides coming at each other.

But for the moment they raided griffin roost finding scaling ladders, battering rams on wheels, wheeled siege towers covered in rawhide and various types of catapults, trebuchets, mangonels, spitfires, and scorpions. The sight of them forces a sense of purpose and power to fill Maegor he knew that he would be able to break down the city gates.

They were almost within reaching distance of the city, they were inches from the gate and almost within range of the archers.

“Get the battering ram and have the archer towers ready,” Maegor roared and Henry and his captains bellowed his order throughout their fast ranks. The loud trumpeting sound of elephants filled the air. 

Horns and bells rang loudly in the air etching and booming in the ears of Maegor began to make their way over to the gate, the soft creeks of the wheels were the only thing that he could hear as the warm wind rippled through his silver hair.

The sight of the walls as they grew closer seemed less imposing as the battering rams moved forward. Triangular tip wooden rams stared back at Maegor; thick iron bands kept the battering rams attached to the wheels.

Boom! Boom!! The battering rams slammed against the walls echoing loudly as a roar of men filled the air. Shields were hefted over the heads of men while the battering ram slammed into the thick wooden gates of Storms End.

Thick black ion bars kept the door locked shut but as men screamed in pain while soldiers rushed to the wall the son of strings being pulled unit filled the air as Maegor watched the archer towers begin to set up.

As archers struggled to get onto the battlements, sharp whizzes filled Maegor's ears as he dropped to the ground hiding behind a shield as he looked up to see men struggling to get up the steps but the few that did stand up on the wall were flings airs and rocks. Hate-filled his mind as the wet pops of bursting organs and shadows of arrows flew overhead.

Sharp thanks started to fill the air as batter rams slammed against the gate while flaming oiled rocks began to fling. Elephants reared back in panic as the ground shook from their leathery feet hitting the ground forcing them to shake violently. Thick black tar litter the rocks as they went flying through the sky.

The scent of burning wood filled Maegor’s nose, as a sharp thunderous boom shook the gate as Maegor watched the rock slamming hard into the once pale ivory walls now turned black soot and smoke raised in the air. Men were flung from their spots as the loud booms of battering rams still filled the air. Though Maegor could hear the groan of iron like hinges.

Maegor’s mouth grew dry and his tongue awkward and heavy in his mouth as he tasted the bitter scent of burning flesh and smoke forcing his throat to turn dry and cracked. His blood was rushing in his ears. With one mighty heave and a thunderous boom, Maegor watched the gate collapse from behind his hidden shield.

“Charge!!!” With a loud mighty bellow, Maegor screamed out before launching forward.

Maegor’s heart pumped with rage-inducing chemicals that raced through his entire body as he pulled his blade from the hilt, he wanted to reduce this place to ash. He would end the Baratheons long before the Targaryens ever stepped foot on the ground. Black smoke danced against the sky as the wind fanned the flames and Maegor ran into acting gripping tightly to the leather reigns of a forgotten horse.

Soldiers rushed through the rolling green valley; their feet went from slapping the trampled grass of the valley to the massive stone courtyard. Armies clashed as they rushed out of the gates hoping to stop the invading force from taking over.

No longer content with watching others fight on lurched forward ready to seek vengeance not only for himself but for Rhaegar as well. They ran down men's thick heavy crunches and began to fill their ears as they watched blood erupt from the ground where horse's hooves slammed hard into the skull and stomachs of the Stormlands and the Blackfyre forces.

Most of the men that laid before Maegor was hard cold men, Maegor sliced downwards at the men that sat before me. The heat forced sweat to drip down his back. Taking in a deep breath Maegor could feel his blood rushing through his veins burning his skin and threatening to pulse out of his veins at any moment.

Maegor could hear the screams of men, the painting of horses being driven too hard, the hate in the eyes of the men, their fury burned into the skin of the young king. Slicing his blade through the thin armor, Maegor’s blade sliced through the men's flesh as blood erupted from his face. Gray and white brain matter splatter against Maegor's face

Lurching forward Maegor swung my blade down with all his might. Their panic cries were the last thing that Maegor heard as they fell to the ground in a bloody mess. The panic shriek of terror filled the air as he sliced through them till there was nothing left.

The battle ended after hours of fighting. This was a longer conquest than anyone would have thought but as the black smoke began to clear Maegor was standing over the men that had their heads bent and were filled with hatred for the boy before them. Among them was a young man that everyone in the castle called little lord.

Edric Storm, the bastard son of Delena and Robert Baratheon. Edric is a sturdily attractive youth, with jet-black hair and deep blue eyes. He resembles his father, greatly he looked exactly like a true-born son of Robert Baratheon hell he looked more like a brother than his elder sibling did.

The moment that Maegor looked at him he knew that he had to kill him. Baratheon would not stop until he was back at his normal station. Maegor sneered at the boy as he spoke to Henry in a cold voice.

“Grab him!” A sneer pulled at Maegor's lips.

He could hear the panic cries of men as the young boy was ripped from the ground through his blue eyes were kind and gentle. There was no fear in them only this cruel hatred. He fought hard against the hold, but he was forced to his knees as Maegor gripped tightly to his blade sneering at the little boy as he spoke in a cold voice.

“This is for my mother and father.” A murderous voice boomed loudly in the air.

He knew that this had nothing to do with the Targaryens; he could not give two shits, but he did want to make Robert feel true pain. With a quick strike, he could feel the blade slipping through the bone of the young boy and all struggled to see. Panic scratches for women as they cried out forced to look away.

“Put his head on a pike and deliver it to his father, let him know that Aegon Targaryen sends his regards.” Maegor kicked the body as he spoke.

“Leave his body out for the maggots and wolves, they should enjoy a little stag meat.” A bitter, murderous laugh left his lips.

He was laughed at the murder of a child he was no better than Robert that was at least what Jon was thinking as Maegor watched he walked off to the throne room.

* * *

Robert IV

The doors to the throne room slammed inward as Robert watched a man walking into the room, he had a sigil of a bursting sun on his back. His shoulders were heading heavily like he was tired. Resting in his hands was a box one that looked to be the size of ahead.

The moment that he came into the room Robert knew that something was wrong as he looked over to Ned and Catelyn both of whom acted as if they knew the men before them.

“You are a Karstark or at least one of his men,” Ned spoke with confusion in his voice.

The moment that he spoke the whole room seemed to be silent, the council, the men and women of the lords and ladies of the realm. All of them here to plan the next strike, hoping to hear back from the forces in both Dorne and the Stormlands hoping to hear something good in the next coming days. Hoping to hear from Stannis or at the very least a letter.

The boy who held the box looked over to his lords and nodded his head firmly speaking in a northern laced accent.

“Aye, I am here sent by my true king Aegon Targaryen, the son of Lyanna Targaryen and Rhaegar Targaryen. Benjen sends his regards by the way.” A sneer pulled at the boy's lips.

Hate flaring him his stare. He threw the box at the feet of the king. The change in the air was something dark and cold. There was this fury that filled his eyes as he threw the box at the feet of Robert. There was a sneer pulling at his lips as he looked over to the wolf.

Bright red eyes were locked on the man; he simply nodded his head as if he were talking to the very man that had sent him here, to begin with. Murderous eyes were locked on Robert as he sat there leaning forward, he jumped from the chair, no longer patient.

“Hold him” Robert's voice boomed with purpose and power.

Robert bent his knee so that he was hovering over the box, his heart and mind were thundering with a citation. Robert's shoulder began to tense as his fingers pulled at the box, in an instance something in Robert changed.

The boy simply pointed to the box, his body calm and relaxed as his sharp-pointed finger was jabbed right at the box as he pointed his chin down on the stilling and silent prince.

“You have the chance to do the right thing, but you threw Ser Barristan in jail and married a Stark to this Baratheon scum. One day you will realize that you were wrong and, on that day, Lyanna will not be able to beg for your life much longer.

Resting in the box covered in tar was a severed head. It was the head of Stannis; his eyes were glassy and inflamed as maggots were threatening to crawl into his eyes. His fat pink tongue had grown fat from the gases that were filling his body. Crusted red blood rested at the bottom of the box as the other jumped back.

Hatred boomed in every muscle of his beginning not because he cared about his brother but because someone dared send him ahead of someone that he cared for. They made him look weak, the Targaryens would regret their actions and he would make sure of it.

* * *

Enyo VII

When she came into the tent with Daenerys at her side, she noticed Aegon was resting on the smooth feather bed in the largest pyramid in Yunkai. They needed a few days to rest to enjoy all that they had done in the past couple of weeks that they are here for. Aegon was not the only one that was resting on the bed, Rhaego was climbing all over his father.

The year-old babe was clapping happily against his father's chest shaking him from a haze of sleep as he giggled, the triplets were resting in their cribs, their dragons curled protectively around them as they were fast asleep, unlike their elder brother.

“My fearless warriors saved me from these vicious little monsters,” Aegon spoke in a husky voice.

His eyes were half-lidded as he struggled to stay awake, his indigo eyes clouded as he looked to the perch that rested above their bed, the largest Oceanus was resting there looking down at his rider Rhaego.

He was squealing with joy as he slapped at his father’s chest and yanked on his snow-white hair, the love in his body was warmth and fueling him keeping him from going to sleep. Enyo could not help but laugh as Daenerys shook her head sweet giggles leaving her lips as she scooped Rhaego up into her arms.

“The stallion who will mount the world can't beat one babe.” Daenerys taunted her husband.

Enyo amused joined in on the teasing, “He can mount a dragon and bed two more, but a hatchling is where he draws the line, maybe we should wear the armor and him the dress.”

Aegon let out a shape burst of laughter, as Rhaego let out something that in his baby mind would be a roar but just sounded like a screech. Enyo collapsed into the bed resting a hand on her husband's chest as her silver and white locks spilled over her shoulder. Her smoke-gray eyes gaze deeply into indigo eyes.

“3 out of four isn’t too bad, my king.” A flirty smile pulled at Enyo’s lips.

Aegon placed a gentle hand on her face as he grinned at her, “Those children of angels unlike their little monster of an elder brother.” Aegon called out to Rhaego who simply laughed at him.

Dany’s eyes warmed as she bounced the babe but he didn't look closer to sleep, “Don't bother I have tried everything…” Aegon drowned as he placed a hand on the small of Enyo’s back as he looked over to his first wife. His hand became her to come over.

“Did you try singing to him…” Enyo would have said more but a deadpan stare locked in on her.

She shut her mouth, but she could not help but smile as Dany looked over to the two of them plopping on the bed with Rhaego sitting on top of three Targaryens.

“What is this I hear about singing?” Dany spoke in an arm voice.

Resting her hand on his hair twirling it absently as she looked at Aegon, the last thing that he wanted was to tell them about his hidden gift but he let out a heavy breath as he nodded his head.

“A skill I sadly picked up from my father, I'm not much of a singer. I used to sing with Mel but that was a long time ago. We are at war, song, and dance as no place here.” Aegon insisted on it.

But after enough taunting, he sang a sweet and sullen melody the words gave them a sense of warmth as Rhaego began to yawn, and at that moment, it was just the three of them and their children. Truly at ease and love. While their enemies across the sea suffered in anguish.


	41. Meereen

Viserys V

He could hear it like a stray rumble, an echoing rumble that ripped through the air and forced the ground to shake. The loud echoing roar filled the air as Viserys sat on his plush pillow, how whole body aching from the beating and the rape of last night. Even though he learned to stop fighting back, that did not keep the cruel men from beating what was left of his humanity was stripped from me.

A sneer pulled at his lips as he looked to the massive balcony, he knew that they were coming. He could fear the searing heat of Arrax even from here he could feel him. He could feel him in the way that he never felt him before like he had finally come to the realization that he was in the wrong and now had a greater understanding of what it meant to be human to be kind and worse to be at the mercy of a true monster. He understood what he did to Dany forcing her to live in terror was no way for a brother to act.

Pain etched its way into his heart and mind a sneer pulled at his face as he felt two people moving at their side. When he looked over his shoulder, he could see Tyrion; he could not sense the dragons, but he knew that something was coming. There was something dark hanging over the city they had heard about the battle of Yunkai. The wise masters were put to death and the city flew the Targaryen flag.

The man looming over him Addam was filled to the brim with worry he might be a slave that is freed by tonight but he would also be the freemen that were sent here to kill the Targaryens and they would kill him for that and if Tyrion wasn't careful they would kill him too.

“What is that sound?” Tyrion questions.

But it should have been obvious, the loud pounding the slamming of feet it was the approaching army the thundering of the ground though was echoed by a thunderous crack. They all looked to the sky but while Tyrion and Addam were looking for black clouds, Viserys was looking for something else. Dragons.

For a moment there was nothing as they started out on the balcony watching as the unsullied and the Dothraki came rushing out through the red baking sands. The glimmering multicolor bricks were staring at him. There was this deep-seated hatred filling their eyes as Viserys looked up to the sky watching as the clouds began to part and he watched as a second booming clap of thunder filled the air.

Six dragons like color comets streaking the sky at the head of the pack were three of the largest dragons. One the color of blood with ruby red eyes, while the poisonous purple dragon with murderous green eyes was locked on the ground and while there were Dany and Balerion, his thick black body and murderous smoldering red eyes were locked on the ground.

Rhaegar and Meleys were darting through the sky with mighty cracks of their wings; they were leaner than the three dragons flying at the head of the pack. While Arrax was flying but his long coiling neck was locked not on the people below them but on Viserys. His heart stilled a shock wave rippled through his body as he leered at the cream and gold dragon.

‘Dragons?” Confusion flooded Tyrion's voice.

He had no choice but to stare on with doubt as Addam was shaken with doubt, the thought of dragons filling them both with terror but for different reasons. Tyrion knew that no matter what the west will never win the war. But Addam was terrified that he would now be fed to the dragons and instead of just taking his head. A shudder rippled through the air as they all watched as the Targaryens began to descend on the ground.

Would they be saved by the dragons or be demanded, all the same, they watched as the golden eyes Arrax was watching Viserys with a hunted expression fluttering on his scaly face. No one knew what was going to happen next.

* * *

Daenerys IX

“Where should we go next?” Daenerys spoke in a cool voice.

She laid her chest against the boiling skin of her husband her fingers were trailing his chest as he smiled weakly at her before turning to see Enyo she was stalking back and forth as she held Daemon tightly to her chest, she was nursing him refusing to let the wet nurse touch him or any of her children.

“I say we head to the lands of the Asshai once we get the mystics on our side it will be one step easier to take Qi Ti and eventually the West.” Enyo spoke in a warm voice.

Her eyes glimmering with love as she looked down to her son who was eating like a ravenous little monster. A warm smile pulled at Dany’s lips as she watched the children sleeping soundly. Rhaego was resting on the floor, the sweet little boy resting on the ground beside a massive dragon.

The army would be setting out soon and they would be able to take a bit longer since they would be riding their dragons. Aegon simply rumbled as he looked over to Dany, running his fingers along her stomach as love filled his eyes. Daenerys was with a child once more and she knew that he would not be on the run for long. He would not want to be on the run while she was pregnant.

“We should rule, Meereen is going to need work to rebuild even if we get the city by peaceful means it is still going to take work. The asshai can wait so can Qi Ti. The free cities will bend the knee when they see that there will be no more slaves to fuel their city. Volantis will be one of the first to fall seeing as how they had more slaves then they had free citizens. There is a lot of work to do here but sooner or later we will take the east but for now we must make sure that the cities are stable. Qarth and the cities in the red waste are under our control and thriving. These cities were thriving and only then we should go to Asshai and Qi Ti.” Aegon spoke in a smooth voice.

His eyes flicked over to Enyo the love and pure adoration filling his stare was more than anyone could take. He worshiped the ground that his wives walked on; he knew that and could see it each time he looked at them. Enyo knew that he was right. She wanted a few moments of peace and silence with her children.

“So then let's rule, together” There was a sultry smile on her face as she placed Daemon back in his crib.

His dragon happily curled around him as Enyo dropped into the bed with her husband and wife, she nuzzled Aegon as she rested her chin on the left side of his chest while Dany nuzzled the left side of his chest. Aegon and an arm curled protectively over their waist. A warm smile pulled at his lips as he placed a kiss on each of their heads. In this moment they were just them, but they knew that it would not last long there was a city to conquer and so little time.

* * *

The unsullied stood at the ready but they were not moving even as Daenerys approached the men with Ser Jorah, Aegon and Enyo were with the children reading them for a long journey. Rakharo and Jhogo were moving at their back while Ago was with the children making sure that they were well protected. Missandei and Doreah stood at Daenerys' side while her other hand maidens fluttered around the children making sure that their future Khal and Khalessi were safe.

Ser Barristan was waiting for them with a warm smile on his face as he nodded his head position. He seemed more loyal to the children than he did to his king. He loved and honored Rhaegar but he was a known fool who could see that the children have a knack for leading and killing. They brought dragons back to his world and they did that not Rhaegar.

“Ser Barristan.” Daenerys spoke in a sweet voice, her eyes warm and gentle but she could feel a peak of annoyance.

“Your Grace.” He nodded his head politely.

The bright blue sky was staring back at her bright and filled with a warmth and a power she could not understand what was the reason that the men had yet to move. After all they did not have dragons to ride to shorten the journey the way that Dany and her family did.

“Where's Daario Naharis? Where's Grey Worm?” Daenerys felt a flutter of confusion as she looked around the empty desert expecting them to materialize from thin air. Ben Plumm had an amused sparkle in his eyes as he looked over to the knight.

His eyes said that he would not get involved in this.

“Gambling, Your Grace.” Ser Barristan spoke in such a matter of fact voice that it was startling.

“Gambling?” Daenerys questioned as she looked up to the sky.

Her brother and her niece were already in the sky ready to take off.

Annoyed, Dany strides forward with Missandei and Doreah following briskly behind Dany they were hiding the amused smile that was pulling at their lips. They walk between rows and rows of unsullied. Not once looking at the men that were standing beside them.

The crowd bows in reverence as the Queen and her handmaidens stride past her slaves that were now freed were whispering in reverence those that did not want to reside in the rebuilding cities they wanted a place where they could truly call home and maybe Meereen was this place and maybe it was not but they would never know until they tried.

Dany however had her eyes locked on Grey worm and the blue hair sell sword both of whom had a blank look on their faces as they were holding their most prized weapons in their hand.

“How long have they been at it?” Daenerys annoyingly peaked and Balerion roared in response.

“Since midnight, Your Grace. Once you announce your pregnancy, they decide that they would see who the honor would have to protect you when the time of the birth comes.” Missandei spoke as Doreah let out a musical laugh.

“I'm sure that honor will go to Helios and Balerion.” Doreah smiles sweetly.

They come upon Daario and Grey Worm, who sit cross legged facing one another. Each of them holds their arms extended straight before them, their weapons resting atop. Apparently, this is a game of endurance. Dany shook her head heavily as she rubbed her brow. She knew that if Aegon heard of this little bet he would be sitting right here beside his hot-headed men holding his own Valyrian blade up.

“Ser Worm is stronger than he looks. But I can see his arms beginning to shake.” Daario spoke in a smug voice.

Daenerys rubbed her brow wearily as she looked over to the men they had yet to move and she knew that they would not move for anything. She looked over to see Helios resting off to the side three cubs were nipping at his tail and feet as he roared with fury. Telling them to knock it off but the little cubs paid their father no attention as a warm smile pulled at Daenerys lips. She knew that soon Aegon would be acting the same way only he would be yelling at his men not his children.

“The last man holding his sword can find a new queen to fight for.” Daenerys spoke in a dark and smug voice.

Dany began to walk off as Daario and Grey Worm dropped their arms simultaneously. Their weapons fall to the sand. Daario groans as his eyes scan the ass of his queen as she walks away. He knew that Aegon would take his eyes then his life. While he watched the queen walk away, he could see the young golden eyes scribe Missandei giving Grey Worm a look. Daario turned to look at Grey Worm.

“You like this girl? Must be frustrating.” Daario spoke in a smooth voice, high Valyrian spilled from his lips.

“You are not a smart man, Daario Naharis.” A smug smile pulling at the boy's lips.

“I'd rather have no brains and two balls.” Daario spoke so carelessly even though he knew that Grey Worm could easily kill him. Instead he just watched him walk away as they knew that sooner or later, they would come to blow, and he knew that it would be over the silver queen.

* * *

The sky roared in their ears as they took off high into the air the wind whipped at their face as Daenerys noticed that there was something peeking out off the side of the road. There were people pooling around the steak in the ground as roaring filled the air, confusion echoed in her chest as she looked over to Aegon and Enyo. Both were shrugging their shoulders like they had no clue what was going on.

Dany leaned into Balerion enjoying his touch and sizzling skin as the wind slammed against her face and her har whipped at her back as she touched down gentle Balerion letting out a roar as she looked over to see what all the men and women were looking at among them was Barristan, Jorah, Grey Worm, and Missandei were among those staring at the mile marker.

They have found a mile marker, festooned by a woman's corpse who points the way to Meereen. The sight of it forces a great sense of revulsion flooded over Daenerys as she looks to see Aegon and Enyo circling. The fury in their eyes burned against Dany’s skin as they shifted their eyes from the mile marker to Daenerys.

“There's one on every mile marker between here and Meereen.” Ser Jorah spoke as hate flared in his stare.

As Daenerys sat on Balerion she was fighting her urge to burn down the city and all that rested in it. How could they do this to a person? Daenerys thought what kind of monster was resting in the city and that they thought that this was okay. Whether they are people or slaves to them it was wrong they would not do this to their prize hound so why do it to a person.

“How many miles are there between here and Meereen?” Daenerys questioned her finger tracing along the black spikes.

“163, Your Grace. I will tell our men to ride ahead and bury them. You don't need to see this.” Barristan spoke in a warm voice.

The hate in Daenerys' eyes was like a never-ending inferno: they would pay for this, their punishment would be wife and pain filled.

“You will do no such thing. I will see each one of their faces. Remove her collar before you bury her.” Daenerys spoke before taking off into the sky with a thundering clamp of his wings she vaulted into the air.

They would pay for this.

* * *

Meleys VII

The unsullied march towards Meereen. Things were wrong ever since they had seen the mile makers. Meleys could see that her siblings and aunt were boiling with rage as they fought their baser demons. They wanted to burn the city down even if they did not say it aloud. Meleys watching from the sky with Aegon at her side.

“Aegon we have burned two cities, we can't make this the third.” Meleys spoke in a wise voice.

As she floated in the air, she noticed that Arrax was distracted. The sweet natured dragon was staring off in the distance like his glimmering golden eyes were searing with power and purpose but called out to something. He wanted something off in the distance.

Dany, Jorah, Ser Barristan, Missandei, and Daario ride alongside. The riders dismount at the main gate while the unsullied stand at attention. The Meereen city folk watch from atop the walls. murmuring. The main door opens.

“Are they attacking?” Daenerys questioned.

“A single rider. A champion of Meereen. They want you to send your own champion against him.” Ser Jorah spoke in a smooth voice.

“I'm aware that Mel you have been slamming that into my mind for a few months now. I will try to do this peacefully, but we tried that once before and threatened to enslave us. We gave Yunkai a shot and they wanted to chain us up. Do you really think that kind words will change their mind? '' Aegon taunted Meleys as he looked down to the open landscape.

A single rider advances, and the crowd cheers. He halts the horse to the side of Dany's band. He dismounts. His voice was echoing and booming as he taunted the band of warriors and dragons that were swirling around.

“What is he doing?” Dany question as Meleys swallowed the rage

“Do you think that violence is the answer to everything?” Meleys roared with anger as she looked at her elder brother.

He laughed a cold bitter laugh as his bright indigo eyes were filled with hate as he sneered at his sister. He never had so much rage for someone that I loved before now.

“I have seen the depravity of slavers, or men hungering for power. I have been at their mercy, so gas Enyo and so gas Daenerys. I am sorry we do not get to live in a happy bubble like you. We have seen the depravity of these people and we have no problem-solving issues with peace if we thought that would make a difference. Even Viserys now better then to believe this stupid little lie that you convinced yourself in believing.” Aegon roared with his own fury and hatred.

While below them the city gates were swirling with people.

“I believe he means to…” Ser Barristan stopped speaking.

The champion urinates towards Dany. The crowd laughs and cheers. All the wise masters were staring at them like they were above them all, but they did not see the dragons that were stalking the sky.

“He says that we're an army of men without man parts. He claims you are no woman at all, but a man who... hides his cock in his own asshole.” Missandei spoke in a blank voice.

Dany looked with hatred every time that she looked at them all she could see were the dead children that were forced on the cross.

“Ignore him, Your Grace. These are meaningless words.” Ser Barristan spoke in a smooth voice.

“Instead we could be cold and jaded like you, believe the worst in everyone and never be disappointed when it turns out to be the truth.” Meleys yelled back.

The men on the ground were oblivious to the fight that was going on between the two siblings but Aegon simply laughed at her.

“Rather be cold and add then dumb and obvious.” A sneer pulled at his lips as they two fought the who air their arena as Silverwing, and Ares were snarling and snapping at each other, their black teeth glimmering in the light.

“They're not meaningless if half the city you intend to take is listening to them.” Ser Jorah spoke letting his eyes look up to the sky watching the dragons fighting.

He could only shake his head heavily as the champion continued to speak and Daenerys let out a heavy breath.

“I have something to say to the people of Meereen. First, I will need this one to be quiet. Do I have a champion?” Daenerys spoke in a cold voice.

Shaking her head heavily as she looked to the sky to see her husband and her niece fighting like children, and while they are children that didn't mean that they need to act like it or even prove their parents right that they shouldn't lead because of their age and they are not making it easy.

“Allow me this honor, mother of dragons. I will not disappoint you.” Grey Worm coke in high Valyrian not once noticing his king arguing on dragon back.

“You are the commander of the Unsullied. I cannot risk you.” Daenerys spoke as she did her best to ignore the arguing children.

“Your Grace, I've won more single combats than any man alive.” Ser Barristan spoke in a smooth voice.

Daenerys had so many choices but most of them were going to be needed when they went back to the west, she could not lose any of her knights.

“Which is why you must remain by my side.” Daenerys spoke with pride and love for the older night.

“I've been by your side longer than any of them, Khaleesi. Let me stand for you today as well.” He nodded his head firmly.

“You are my most trusted advisor, my most valued general, and my dearest friend. I will not gamble with your life.” Daenerys spoke in a smooth voice letting her eyes flutter over to Daario the only person that she did not care about.

Even Plumm was more important than him ,she didn't like him or want him in their own camp but he was a skilled killer and that was all that she needed right now there would be plenty of time to get rid of him before then. She placed a hand on her stomach. The budding life in her gave her purpose.

“I was the last to join your army. I am not your general or a member of your Queensguard or the commander of your Unsullied. My mother was a whore. I come from nothing. And before long, I will return to nothing. Let me kill this man for you.” Daario spoke in a smooth voice.

Dany did not need to be told twice she was glad to be down and over with him if he dies so be it.

“Very well. You have quite an audience. Make it worth their while.” Dany spoke in a smug voice as she looked up to the sky.

“Knock it off both of you” Enyo roared with indignation. She was hidden among the clouds hoping to stay secrete until she could burn the walls or fly behind it

But now she had no choice; she did not talk to her sister in a few days but now she had no choice, she looked over to Aegon and he let out of huff a sneer pulling at his lips. 

“Fine by me, I'm going for a flight, do what you want Mel.” He took off high into the sky leaving them all behind with Enyo on his heels and an excreted look on her face.

Meleys stayed in the air annoyed as Arrax flew by her side but that same look fluttered a scaly face as he looked to a balcony off in the city. 

“He is very brave, Your Grace.” Missandei spoke in a mocking voice.

“Yes, win or lose, as long as the whole city is watching.” Daenerys spoke in a heavy voice reliving her chest when she noticed that Aegon was flying off with Enyo following him.

A squire helps the mounted champion arm himself. Dany walks up to Daario.

“You sure you don't want a horse?” She spoke in a cold voice.

“Why would I want a horse?” Daario spoke in a cold voice.

“Horses are faster than men.” Daenerys said it as if it was obvious.

“Horses are dumber than men.” Daario said it was a matter of fact.

Dany steps back and the champion charges. Daario turns to wink at Dany. The champion closes in and Daario draws his dagger, holds it on his shoulder and kisses it. He then launches it at the charging champion, burying the blade in his horse's forehead. The horse falls in the sand, the champion rolling away. As he rises, Daario dispatches him with a single blow to the neck. He nods to Daenerys.

The Meeren crowd is shocked. An order is given, and scores of archers on the wall fire at Daenerys' band. The arrows plant in front of them. Daario urinates in response. Dany paces and the Unsullied turn at attention.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn. Your Masters may have told you lies about me, or they may have told you nothing. It does not matter. I have nothing to say to them. Only to you. First, I went to Astapor. Those who were slaves in Astapor now stand behind me, free. Next, I went to Yunkai. Those who were slaves in Yunkai now stand behind me, free. Now I have come to Meereen. I am not your enemy. Your enemy is beside you.” Daenerys spoke but Meleys was not paying attention

Meleys did not have a chance to listen to the speech as she noticed that Arrax was taking off as if he felt something coming over him. She dived through the air after the young dragon, the beast, was only 3 years old and she was worried that he could still get injured.

She rushed in after the beast even as he flew over Meereen the others did not notice they were too busy looking at Daenerys listening to her eloquent words. The Meereen inhabitants start to move away from the wall, while the Meereen soldiers face outside the wall. The Meereen slaves listen carefully to Daenerys, while their masters become uncomfortable.

“Your enemy steals and murders your children. Your enemy has nothing for you but chains and suffering and commands. I do not bring commands. I bring you a choice. And I bring your enemies what they deserve. Forward!” Daenerys spoke in a booming voice.

She exudes power and had a way of words, a way of drawing people to her that made her the perfect queen and the only one out of the three that was truly skilled enough to talk to these people.

The Unsullied move the siege weapons forward. The slaves are emboldened, and the inhabitants are taken aback.

“Fire!” Dany roared with fury and power.

The unsullied fire the catapults. Cylindrical logs spin through the air and shatter on the sides of buildings, raining down the empty manacles inside. Civilians and slaves duck as the contents fall among them. As slaves pick up an empty choker and look back at their fearful master.

Though Meleys was not paying the least bit of attention she was darting through the air, the warm wind whipping at her face as she looked over to Arrax he was flying with purpose and confiscation. She did not know what was going on, but she followed closely behind her never thinking that maybe something was pulling him in that direction. For a while they simply flew in silence but finally, she came upon a manse.

The minute that she saw who was resting in the manse she could barely believe her eyes; sure, he was different but the same in so many ways. He still had his silver hair, but it had lost its shine lacking luster that other we gave him an otherworldly beauty. His face was still as breathtaking as before, but he was not as giant it would seem like he had been eating more as a slave than he did as a prince.

His body was lean and heard with muscle, Meleys assumed it from all the physical labors that he was forced to endure in the two years that he had been gone. The sight of him forced her heart to ache because she could see both shock and broken lock that filled his eyes. Her eyes scanned over his body seeing that he even carried himself in a different way.

The smug air that always circled around him was gone instead replaced with a flat air that screamed I just want this to all end. But the moment that he saw Arrax that old fire came back if only for a moment his pale lilac eyes seemed a, most a bit fierce as he looked over the golden and cream dragon. His lips pressed into a o shape, but his eyes were not shocked; it was like he knew that they were coming.

After a moment Viserys turned his gaze to Meleys and she couldn't believe that it was really him, her body stilled as she jolted her spine to strength as she jutted her chin out like she wanted him to see her face. He was not the only man that was standing on the balcony and only after a moment she noticed them.

One was a man, a stunted man that had mist match eyes and flaxen hair that was a mixture of white and black. There was an awe-stricken expression falling on his face as he looked over the dragons one after the other. Arrax dared through the air, his long coiling neck snapped through the air. Meleys feared that Arrax did not remember him or worst remember him as the man that he was but Arrax’s nose flared as if he was sniffing after a long moment, he slammed his head against Viserys.

To her surprise Meleys listened to a burst of musical laughter that left the lips of Viserys. It was strange since they never heard him laugh in the few months that they had traveled together. The man beside the imp was a larger man with a proud look in his eyes. Meleys could tell that he was a knight of some kind but the look of horns on his face made it seem like he was not on their side.

“He wants you to ride him.” Meleys spoke in a sweet voice.

Watching as Viserys snapped his head up shocked that Meleys was speaking to him in such a kind voice. But there was a weak smile on his face as he ran his fingers tenderly along the horns of the young dragons. Soft hisses filled the air as he gave the dragon a sweet yet sullen smile.

“Do I deserve the honor?” Pain echoed in his voice.

Meleys did not care if her brother and sister thought that it was alive. She thought that the pope could change, and she assumed that Viserys was one of those people that changed. 

“You are a Targaryen, take what you want with fire and blood” Meleys jutted her chin out as she spoke.

Pride filled her eyes as Viserys nodded his head, turning back to look at the two men as he took a deep breath.

“Well I have a gift for my nephew that might win me some favor or at the very least not kill me. Tyrion Lannister and his cohort Addam Marband.” Visors spoke and Meleys lockdown with doubt 

White hot fury filling her, what was a Lannister doing here.

* * *

Third Person III

A fury filled Aegon, his blade sinking deep into the straw dummy as he battered it until the straw went flying against his skin and hair. The hate in his eyes was more consuming than dragon fire. The hate that he felt was so great that he wanted to kill someone. The thought that his sister would really think that he was nothing more than a murder it outrages him. Just because he was quick to fight monsters like this that did not earn that was the only thing that he could do.

The sun bared down on him, but it was nothing more than a flash of warmth against the searing hate that forced his blood to boil and his skin to heat up.

“What has gotten into him?” Helios spoke into the mind of the angry king.

His brown eyes were filled with intelligence as he stalked into the clearing meant for the dragons, Aegon’s instead that a few straw dummies would be put here so that he could train amongst the dragons. He could not hear all their voices, just Ares that was more than enough for him.

“Silverwing and her girl riders are causing problems, what else is known, the princess disagreed with her brother and the two of them the moment after each other. Each stirred up Silverwing and I was not going to simply let her attack me.” Ares spoke and his words reignited the fury if Aegon

His sword was digging into the straw ripping it apart with ease as he danced and pivoted sharply on his heels and feet. Thrusting and pretending parrying as if he were fighting a real person. Around him was Aggo who looked to be flinching away from the king's attack like he felt bad for the dummy. Rakharo and Jhogo were still at the two Khaleesi's sides; they were not allowed to leave their side since Aegon found out that his wife was once more barring him from having more children. At the age of 16 he had four children and who knew how many more he would have.

“My king?” Ser Jorah questioned with worry edging this way into his tone.

He could see the way that an animal like fry flowed his body and the last thing that he wanted was to disrupt the king but he knew that he must know that the unsullied were ready to sneak into the city at night with Daario’s help. But he also knew that Aegon hated Daario and was looking for any reason to kill him. He was hoping that they would betray him so that he could burn him.

Aegon was no fool and he could see the way that Daario lusted for his wife and barely made any real attempts to hide it, he knew that for the time being they needed his means and that made him think that he could lord it over them. But Aegon had plans of his own the moment that he had enough reason to kill him he would. Let him keep building the reason for everything that he did poison everyone against him. 

“What” Aegon spoke through gritted teeth.

Turning the full brunt of his muscle and mind into the blade that was wielding with expert skill, he did not once look up to the sky or to the knight that he trusted with his life. He knew that whatever he wanted to talk about had to do with the sieges but before either one of them could say another word there was thunderous screech that echoed loudly in the air

When Aegon looked up to the sky fury flooded his mind as his teeth ripped into the tender skin of his cheeks. He could hardly believe that he was seeing his uncle riding Arrax, his pale cream and golden scales were gleaming in the light while a silver-haired boy who looked broken was resting on his back. But the more shocking thing had to be the men that are in the claws of Silverwing and Arrax

The dazzling silver dragon had a man tall and long black hair resting in her grasp. It almost looked gently but just as they were floating over the ground her claws opened and the man dropped off the ground. Ser Jorah rushed over to the man placing a sword to his throat warning him to run while Arrax dropped a stunted man onto the ground and much like Ser Jorah, Aggo made his way over to the imp placing a blade to his throat.

But Aegon did not care about the men that were in the grasp but the man on the dragon back. Arrax dropped to the ground gracefully as Viserys descended from the dragon. His nerves were eaten at what is left of the sanity of his mind. As he walked over to Aegon all he could think is that he would die before he got the chance to even speak to him. Ares let out a furious roar feeding off the rage of Aegon. Helios let out a furious roar as he lurched forced clawing at the air.

But Meleys launched herself from Silverwings’ back running to protect Viserys form her own brother, she took in front of him holding her hands up in his defense and Helios was forced to back off. Her eyes were pleading for Aegon to calm down and listen to her and for once he let out a heavy breath his grip loosening against his blade as he put Blackfyre back on his back.

“Nephew, it has been a long time, 2 years, right?” Viserys spoke as if they were old friends but Aegon knew what he was even if his sister did not.

He would be glad if he were wrong, but he was not going to believe he changed like the others did. Aegon walked over to Ares sitting in front of his dragon folding his legs as he pulled his blade into his lap. Sizzling red arms are resting around him as a curling red tail flickers until it is right in front of Aegon he places a hand in front of him.

“Sit I'm sure that the others have seen you and are making their way here.” Aegon spoke in a blank voice.

He was doing his best to put his rage aside when Meleys looked at him with an outraged look fluttering on her face.

“Why not just meet them in the camp?” She spoke in a murderous voice but Aegon gave her a pointed stare.

“MY children are in the camp and I still don't trust him, now sit or leave. Take Arrax for all I care” Aegon spoke knowing that there is no way that Viserys would run.

Even with his one dragon he would be no match for Aegon, so he had no choice but to smile as he nodded his head.

“I suppose I deserved that after I attacked Daenerys when she was pregnant with your first son. You did not want to risk me around your other children. Mel tells me that you have four children, three with Enyo and one with Daenerys but you have another on the way.” Viserys spoke in a sweet and subdued voice.

The last thing that Aegon wanted was to trust the man in front of him let alone hear that his sister talked about his children with the very many that threatened to kill Daenerys while she was pregnant with Rhaego.

“Yes, four and another on the way, how was it? Begin a slave?” Aegon spoke in a sweet voice.

Mel looked embarrassed at the lack of tact in her brother's voice, but she knew that she was pushing it to begin with. She looked more to see Ser Jorah moving Addam and Tyrion over to them both were staring at Ares with wide eyes, the other dragons were out hunting.

“Terrible honestly, I was raped, torture, and beaten into an inch of my life more than a few times, I don't blame you for that thought i know that you did what you thought was right without having to kill me for all that I did. I was the one that got Gerold killed, I tortured Daenerys every chance that I got, and I threatened to strike her down when she was pregnant. I was a monster with no redemption in sight. I raped many slaves and women alike, I got what I deserve. I see that now. I know that I don't deserve it but I'm here asking for a second chance….” His voice was cut off with the arrival of Daenerys, Enyo and Rhaegar, all three of them could barely understand what they were seeing.

Enyo’s face scrunched up in rage as her brows furrowed and her lips curled in disgust like seeing him revolt her. Daenerys was more shocked than anything but Viserys could see the gleaming hints of fear in her eyes as her hands moved to the life that was budding within her, remembering the last time that she was pregnant around Viserys. Rhaegar simply looked smiled before walking off hoping to talk to his son.

Overhead, the shadow of a flying dragon soars in the moonlight. On the ground, the Unsullied run through the rocky landscape. They strain to open a gate in the rockface. Grey Worm lights a torch as flames flickered against the smooth blackening would. They travel through the sewer tunnel.

While they snuck into the city the slaves were talking about sneaking out.

Many slaves are gathered in the dark chamber, seating and standing. A young slave stood among them doing his best to speak to his men

“You heard her! She said she came to free us.” Mossador spoke with outrage in his voice.

“You are a fool. The masters are too strong.” The old man spoke with hate in his heart.

“She will protect us. She defeated the masters' champion.” Mossador spoke in a cool voice.

The slaves look at one another. None of them said a word but they saw the dragons that flew.

“She has a great army. You want to live the rest of your days in chains?” Mossador spoke in a cold voice.

“I want to live. You saw what they did to those children. What do you think they'll do to us?” Another slave spoke.

“I've been through two slave revolts, boy. They always end the same way: The Masters in power and the slave’s dead.” that same old man spoke in a cool voice.

In that moment Grey Worm and the Unsullied enter.

“All men must die.” Grey Worm spoke in a smooth voice

The slaves are surprised to see them. The old Meereen slave and Mossador before stood their eyes widening with doubt as they took in the form of the Unsullied commander

“But I promise you, a single day of freedom is worth more than a lifetime in chains” Grey Worm spoke in a cool voice.

“Who are you?” The old slave spoke with confusion and doubt in his voice.

“This one is called Grey Worm. I was taken as a baby by the Masters of Astapor, raised and trained as Unsullied. Now I fight for Daenerys, the Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains. Her husband is the stallion that will mount the world and their sister wife a warrior and rider of the poisonous queen.” Grey Worm spoke in a proud voice.

“You are Unsullied? They taught you how to fight before you could walk. We are not soldiers.” The old slave spoke his face littered with wrinkles and depression.

“We have no training, weapons.” Another slave spoke up

Grey Worm and the other Unsullied remove their bundles from around their shoulders. The weapons clank as they hit the ground. The slaves gather round, and a few tentatively pick up some swords.

“There are three slaves in this city for every Master. No one can give you your freedom, brothers. If you want it, you must take it.” Grey Worm spoke in a cold voice.

A master and two guards walk the empty streets. They encounter some graffiti reading,  _ Kill the Masters _ . Their hearts filled with terror as they began to curse under their breaths with outrage. It was that dragon bitch and their horde.

They look up to a high tower where a Targaryen flag is waving. Suddenly, a mob of slaves comes running at them. The guards run, leaving that master to fight for himself for the first time in a long time. He tries to flee, but more slaves pour around each corner. The slaves shout and set upon him.

The morning came quickly and Daenerys, Aegon, an Enyo walked among the cheering slaves, flanked by children. While Rhaegar and Enyo flew above the city. Viserys was back at the camp spending time with Arrax and doing his best to mend the bridges that he burned so long ago.

“Mhysa! Mhysa! Mhysa!” Slaves roared

They walk down the steps on the cliff, surrounded by cheering slaves.

“Mhysa! Mhysa! Mhysa! Mhysa!” The slaves continued to roar

They ascend to the overlook, joining Grey Worm and the Unsullied.

“Mhysa! Mhysa!” Slaves roared with power

“Remind me, Ser Jorah, how many children did the Great Masters nail to mileposts?” Daenerys spoke.

Aegon looked over to his wife with an amused look on his face, he knew what she was getting at even if she did not say the words. Ser Barristan knew it as well Aegon could see the look on his face. 

“163, Khaleesi.” Ser Jorah spoke

Enyo stood there, her arms pressed against the railing, looking out to the slave master with hate filling her stay; she wanted them to suffer.

“Yes, that was it.” Daenerys spoke in a smug voice as she turned to look at Grey Worm who in turn gave a nod to his second in command.

The Unsullied march forth, pressing the citizens of Meereen.

“Your Grace, my king may I have a word? The city is yours. All these people, they are your subjects now. Sometimes it is better to answer injustice with mercy.” Barristan spoke with worry in his eyes.

Aegon let out a bitter laugh, his fingers tracing his blade-like he wanted to cut the master's down, and Enyo was right there with him only Daenerys had some form of justice in her eyes.

“I will answer injustice with justice,” Daenerys spoke in a cold voice.

Unsullied slammed nails into the tender flesh of Meereen citizens to a cross. Others scream.They line the path up the mountainside, each with one hand nailed to the post, pointing the way. The citizens watch. As the Targaryens stand on a platform above, surveying the city, under the Targaryen flag. The screams echo.

“Now we rule '' Aegon, Enyo and Meleys spoke in unison


	42. Battle of Black Water Rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait

Jon IV

What felt like everlasting darkness cloaked Maegor and his cohorts as their fleet slipped through the night? They took what they could from the Stormlands and are now coming full force for the capital in one large assault.

Jon walks the deck and looks out the stern at the rest of the ships. Maegor looked ahead at a stony silence echoing over his face as he leered at the rippling black water. The scent of salt flutters over my nose as soldiers sit in stony silence as one soldier rushes to an overflowed bucket vomiting from seasickness.

Jon and Oberyn were resting above deck watching the young king that was standing at the bow of the ship

“That's it. The tides against us.” Oberyn frowned; he was not much for sailing.

Give him a spear and solid ground any day and he would happily choose that over this deck.

“Aye, but we have the wind. She'll blow us straight to the gates.” Jon spoke absently

His mind was hunted on the sight of the young Edric by now his head had made its way to his father and hells hath no fury like angry father scorn. Jon knew that they would be charged on this battlefield with Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon at the head of the pack.

“You're going to finally get your revenge” Oberyn spoke coolly but Jon did not care about that.

Now he was not sure if Aegon was who he said he was.

“After tonight. When the sun rises, Aegon will sit on the Iron Throne and you will be his Hand” Oberyn spoke in a smug voice like he knew something that Jon did not.

“Gods be good,” Jon spoke in a smooth voice.

“Our ships outnumber theirs ten-to-one. There is no need for gods. They don't know that we are coming and even if they do their fleet might have been rebuilt but we have been preparing for war since we lost my sister.” Oberyn spoke with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

Jon nodded his head as he spoke in a smooth voice, “Our army outnumbers theirs five-to-one. But those walls have never been breached, and the men guarding the walls, when they see you, they don't see a rightful King who was wronged, they see a stranger come to set their city on fire.”

* * *

Third Person V

His mind was blank, and a fury flooded his chest as he thought about his poor son; he was everything that his elder brother was not. He brought pride to his heart and now he was dead how many more of his children would have to die. Baratheons do not die, they do the killing.

“Gendry?” Robert spoke in a low meaning voice.

Robert looked over to Ned who was standing in stony silence Ghost at his sight the white wolf looked like he did not want to fight but had no choice. Robert could see the disdain that oozed in his bright red eyes.

“Dressed in armor of his own design and a hammer on his back ready to smash in skulls. He is ready to die for you if need be. Do you want him pulled off the field with Joffrey? Send them to hide in the palace?” Ned spoke in a smooth voice.

But Robert's rage grew, his sons would not be pulled off the battlefield, Joffrey would never be a respected king if he did not fight and Gendry. Battle will be his only way out of the flea bottom and if he survived there was a part of him that wanted to naturalize the boy, but he knew that should not happen.

“No, they will earn their spot in the family in this city. I want that Blackfyre brat drowning in the blackwater bay. Come on” Robert roared as he looked to his newly fitted armor. A massive hammer on his back glimmering in the light.

Robert was power and rage in carmate and he would not stop until his son’s murder was avenged and the pretender was forced back into the black water.

Robert stalked out of the room as a sneer pulled at his lips as his feet slammed against the ground. He was ready for war all the while Cersei was preparing for death in case they fell.

Cersei looked out her window as an older man walked into the room, she had hoped more than anything that her father would be here and soon. She knew that he was out west not paying attention to the affairs of the Blackfyre scum. Things had been silent until the ships were spotted on the horizon. 

“As you know, Your Grace, it is not only the sworn duty of a maester to carry out the wishes of the house he serves, but also to offer guidance and counsel in times of war.” The old man prattled on.

“Your words are always wise and measured.” Cersei stares at the black water fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

She hoped that her husband was dead for so long but now she knew that she didn't want him dead any longer if he died then Joffrey would be leading the charge against the Targaryens and more dragons are getting worse. They say that the slave cities fell and now they were working on ruling those cities. But one by one the lesser cities in the vicinity were bending the knee before their might.

“If you could - If anything, a maester's duties become more urgent in times of war and turmoil. I remember back in the days of King'' Pycelle spoke ripping Cersei from her thoughts.

“You brought me something?” Cersei spoke in a brisk voice.

“Yes. The essence of nightshade is as dangerous as it is efficacious. A single drop in a cup of wine suffices to soothe ragged nerves. Three drops will bring on a deep and dreamless sleep. Ten drops, however-” Pycelle was cut off by Cersei.

“I know what ten drops will bring,” Cersei spoke in a cold voice.

Her mind was rushing so much longer until she gazed upon Rhaegar once more.

“Your Grace, if I may ask-” Pycelle’s voice drowned on.

“You may not. You must have a lot of work to do. I'm sure many brave men will need your wisdom soon.” Cersei spoke in a smooth voice.

“Yes. A siege is very-” Pycelle spoke but was once more cut off as outrage flared in Cersei's heart.

“Be careful on the stairs, Grand Maester. There are so many.” Cersei spoke in a smug voice, but she knew that he was one of the few that was truly loyal to the Lannister.

“Your Grace.” Pycelle bowed before making his way out of the room.

She was forced to ponder what the battle would be like what her children would go through if they breached the gates. Myrcella would be raped then murder much like Elia, Tommen would lose his head like his bastard brother.

She knew that she could not allow that, she looked over to the full moon that was slowly starting to peak out past the clouds. The bells began to ring, and she knew that soon enough it would begin.

All the while Varys was coming to speak to Ned stark there was a part of him that wondered why he was not making big moves. He had spies all over the city it would be easy to make quick work of the men and open the gate but instead he found himself helping out the very man that was trying to stop Maegor.

Varys stands by the window while Ned pulls on his boiled leather.

“I've always hated the bells. They ring for horror. A dead king, a city under siege.” Varys spoke in a cool voice.

“A wedding.” Ned let to scoff as he thought about his daughter's wedding

Varys unfolds a map slamming it on the table as Ned stalked over to the table looking down at the map.

“The map you asked for,” Varys spoke in a smooth voice.

Ned was running his fingers along the dry paper, “There must be twenty miles of tunnels beneath the city.”

“Closer to fifty. The Targaryens built this city to withstand a siege and to provide an escape if necessary.” Varys spoke.

But the moment that Varys mentions the Targaryens was something dark in the room as Ned spoke in a cool voice.

“About the book, I have been looking for the Maester’s journal” Ned spoke in such an off-handed manner

This had nothing to do with the map, but it was like something snapped in him when he thought about the Targaryens. 

“I'm working on it. The book is supposed to come tomorrow. Hopefully when the battle is over, and we are still standing in this very room handing off the book. That is if we don't use the escape tunnels.” Varys spoke in a cool voice.

“I'm not escaping. I am a soldier. I stay here with Robert and my family.” Ned spoke in a cold voice.

His mind rushing his heart thumping with panic and hate as he thought about his Bran the boy was only 12, not even a man grown, and he and Summer would be on the battlefield. The dire wolves were too much of an asset. Even Lady the sweet-tempered dire wolf would be on the battlefield

Though Ned did not like the idea of his daughter being left alone with no one to protect her he did not trust the Lannisters even if they were bound by marriage and soon by blood. Sansa's stomach began to swell right after they got the head of Stannis so many months ago.

His mind began to rush with all that might happen if they lost and he knew that he could not afford to lose. Varys saw the way that his eyes searched the lord's face as he spoke in a smooth and controlled tone.

“That is good to hear. Though I am sure many soldiers say the same while their army is on the winning side. You look well suited for battle, my lord.

Ned nodded his head just in case tonight was his last night alive he wanted to be with his family if only for a moment longer. Ned stalked off leaving Varys to ponder what is going on in the fleet.

Maegor stood at the head of the fleet listening to the booming and haunted ringing of the bells as he spoke in a cool voice as Jon moved at his back.

“They’re welcoming the new king,” Maegor spoke with a childlike bliss but he knew better than to think that they would ever welcome a Blackfyre.

Soon he would not need this foolish lie and he would be able to take the Targaryens on with a whole realm at his back. They would pay for what they did to his father at least that was his thinking.

“I’ve never known bells to mean surrender. They want to play music with us. Let us play. Drums.” Jon roared as a ship hand roared to below deck

“Drums!” A soldier roared

Soldiers start to play the drums. The soldiers spring to action, readying for battle. Maegor watched with determination and resolution.

Ned's mind was rushing as he moved to the wall and thought about the wildfire that Robert and the queen had made. He thought that it was a shit idea, but he wanted to fight fire with wildfire. Ned knew that even the slightest mistake could kill them but then again if this works the forces would be devastated and sent right back to Dorne.

“Remember, wait till the ships-” Ned spoke but was cut off by the very man that he trusted the least.

“The ships are in the bay. You know lord stark this is only my first battle” Jamie spoke in a smug voice.

He should have been in the vanguard but Robert insisted that it should be Jamie the boy had nerves of steel and if there was one thing that Robert could say about his lord Commander and good brother it was that his hands would be steady when he plucked that arrow. Well, that and this way Robert did not have to worry about him stabbing Robert in the back.

“They must be far enough in-'' Ned spoke in a cautious voice not trusting of Jamie.

“I know what "in'' means Stark,” Jamie spoke in a turning voice.

“Don't get killed,” Jamie spoke in a daunting voice with a vicious glint in his eyes.

Ned did not like the look and neither did Ghost, a vicious snarl left his white lips as his murderous red eyes bore into the very depths of Jamie’s soul.

Sansa was walking among the castle watching men rush around the throne room as her hands were folded on her swelling stomach as her red hair reached her plump and budding breast. There was a warm smile on her face as she looked over to the golden hair husband. There were times that he was cruel but never to her and never outright. He feared his father too much to show him utterly.

Sansa noticed that there was a boy beside her husband. He had to be the same age as her elder brother Robb. Gendry stood at his brother night and day, Gendry was tall and muscled, he had blue eyes and thick, black hair. He was thick and black it was funny that Sansa thought that the boy looked like a young Renly Baratheon, albeit with a square jaw, bushier brows, and tangled hair.

Renly rushed about the throne from nodding firmly at the boy but did not pay the least bit of attention to his other nephew. Sansa knew that the boy had to be a bastard but while Joffrey was the true born son, he looked nothing like his bastard brother who looked gallant and strong.

Gendry had a massive war hammer resting on his back freshly forged and made by himself. Resting under his right arm was a helm that was also made by Gendry, a rounded and curved steel helm shaped like a bull's head, with a slit visor and two great curving metal horns.

“Sansa,” Joffrey spoke in a warm voice.

His eyes danced to her stomach like she was nothing more than a carrier for their children, she was oblivious she never noticed the madness that glitter in the light. She did her best to smile sweetly as he beckoned her once more.

“Sansa, come here I want you to meet my bastard brother Gendry,” Joffrey called out to his wife, dangling her attention.

Sansa forced a sweet smile on her face as she bowed before the young bastards.

“It is nice to meet you Gendry” Sansa spoke in a warm tone, but Joffrey rolled his eyes.

“He is a bastard nothing more nothing less,” Joffrey spoke in a cruel voice.

Gendry leered at his younger brother, “Aye I'm a bastard but I'm a bastard that could smash in your skull as easily as you could insult me. Princess, it is an honor to meet you. It's unfortunate though that your husband is a weak fool.”

Gendry was smug as he looked over to his younger brother, Sansa hid her smile knowing that she could catch hell from Joffrey from smiling. His harsh words were enough to scare her into thinking that he might do something. Lady let out a snarl as she stalked and voted to stand beside Gendry sniffing his hand, but he did not seem the least bit phased. If anything, Lady liked Gendry better than she liked Joffrey.

“Too bad that I was not naturalized you could have been married to a real man and not a little girl pretending to be a boy.” Gendry taunted his brother knowing that Joffrey could not hurt him, and the hound could not do anything without incurring the wrath of Robert. He might be a bastard, but Robert doted on his eldest son knowing that he would ever be everything that his trueborn heir would never be. A great warrior.

Gendry stalked off leaving the two of them alone the moment that they did there was a tension to the air as she looked over to her husband speaking in a smooth voice.

“I will pray for your safe return, my prince” Sansa smiled sweetly as she noticed her mother off to the side arguing with her father.

She knew that Catelyn was outward that her son was going onto the battlefield with Summer at his side. Both of which were marching off as Tommen watched it to happen. They were close in age but different in every way, Tommen's spoiled upbring did not make a good warrior. Say what you want about the Targaryens; they knew who to train their boys to become men. 

“Will you?” Joffrey was clearly annoyed by his brother's words.

“Just as I pray for the king's, my fathers, brothers. I hope that you have many victories.” A sweet smile pulled at her lips as her hands were resting on her stomach. Joffrey nodded his head slowly as he looked over to his elder brother who he hated.

He looked like he was going to be foolish and stupid.

The soldiers buzz with activity. Joffrey marched out watching as his brother was laughing and joking with the soldiers filling them with purpose. A horse gallops through, and some town folks scurry past. They climb the stairs to the top of the exterior wall all look out into the empty harbor.

Renly stood on the wall watching as Ned and Robert both mounted their horse sword and war hammer in hand as a massive white Direwolf rested at his side. There was a hard-cold mask on Ned's face as he turned to look at the man that was more boy than anything else. Joffrey stood firmly with his fool of a cousin by his side as they climbed the battlements, they stared out onto the bay watching the black water.

“Brother, I wish you many victories in the rear Guard. I'll try to save you some enemies.” Gendry was smug as he mounted his horse.

Knowing that he was better than his brother and the protection of his father made him bold, the moment their younger brother died the king had Gendry rough to the palace much to the dismay of the queen though it was not like she could say anything after all Robert her king and she is just his wife. The men laughed at the king and his father's laughter was the loudest and most booming.

They were ready to leave the safety of the walls but Lancel and Joffrey were standing beside Renly who was not paying any of them the least bit of attention.

“Where's our fleet?” Lancel questioned with confusion.

“On the way.” Renly shrugged casually, Lord Monford the commander of the fleet was hidden away in a cove waiting for the right moment.

“Why isn't it here now? They're coming.” Joffrey roared

Though Joffrey was not the only one that was wondering where their fleet was.

“Where are their ships?” Oberyn questioned.

“It was wise to attack at night. We took them by surprise.” Jon spoke caught

“Lord Varys knows what you had for breakfast three days ago. There are no surprises here.” Oberyn was surely surprised Varys was supposed to be on their side and yet he did not want them for any of their plans unless he did not know.

“If it's true there is dissension in their ranks, maybe their sailors have mutinied,” Jon spoke and Oberyn resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he knew that Varys was shifting sides but who?

“Maybe.” It was all that Oberyn said as he wondered what was going on behind that wall.

Renly, Joffrey, the hound, and Lancel were looking at the thick black choppy water as a white fog fluttered as off in the distance small black specs started to turn into massive ships ready to make port and ripped the wall down stone by stone.

“There they are,” Joffrey spoke in an excited and panicked voice.

“Archers to their marks.” Renly roared

“Archers, to your marks! “A soldier roared with fury and power

The archers set their bows.

“Archers! Knock your arrows!” A soldier roared as the second one echoed his words.

“Nock arrows!” The second soldier roared.

Gleaming silver arrows were shining in the moonlight as the taunt bowstring stared at them as they watched with tension fluttering in the air and fury warming them.

“Hold fast,” Renly spoke in a smooth voice.

“Hold fast!” A soldier roared.

“What are you doing? We need to attack them.” Joffrey let out a shrill sequel that showed all the terror that had been building in the back of his throat.

“Hold fast.” Renly flashed his nephew an annoyed snort, not paying him any more attention than needed.

“Boulders ready!” A soldier roared over to Renly

Ready to unleash pain and devastation at least that is their line of thinking.

“Hold fast!” The soldier roared with power.

There is but one ship sailing out of the harbor, fear crept into the chest of Joffrey as he looked at the ship and fought the urge to screech as he spoke.

“There's only one ship. Where are the rest of them? Where are the rest of them?” Joffrey roared.

“There's only one ship,” Maegor spoke

The thought that they only had one ship was amusing but he knew that they were hiding somewhere he didn't know what they were planning at but Oberyn seems skittish as he snapped his head back yelling over his shoulder.

“Archers stand too! Man, the below! Nock.” Oberyn roared.

The soldiers get set. Their hands shaking as if they could sense the tension that was filling the air even if they did not know what was going. As if they could sense the tension and power that was rippling across the choppy black water.

“Nock and set!” A soldier roared.

Maegor looked over his shoulders watching his false uncle as he nodded his head firmly as if to tell him to get ready for a battle.

“Draw! Hold.” Oberyn spoke in a cool voice

“Hold.” The man roared.

They watch the ship sail by. It is unmanned. The ship was empty, there was not a single soul on board, and formed the tension that riddles the air. Oberyn knew that there was something of the moment that he peered at the small boat.

“There's no one on board,” Oberyn spoke as he watched the way that a smooth green liquid spilled from the back of the boat. As the empty ship sails past, and it took a minute he knew that the seas spewing green liquid were in fact Wildfire. They did not have dragons, but they did have fire.

“Wildfire. Steer clear! Steer clear!” Oberyn screamed but he knew that it was going to be too late.

Renly was watching the fleet go into a slow crawl as the ships began to veer struggling to get out of the way in time. Renly threw the torch over the side of the wall. Jamie gets the signal, lights his arrow ablaze the dazzling orange lit ablaze flickering against the steel tip launching it high into the sky. 

The flaming arrow soars over Oberyn's head as Maegor watches the gleaming arrow burn up like a stare in the sky watching as it hits the choppy black water laden with wildfire. For a moment they had hoped that it was a dud but then with an explosive wave of heat dazzling green flames formed around them bathing the ships and flames as they crawled up the bow with an explosive force ripping the deck apart. A huge explosion hit the air as the ghost ship exploded ferociously, overwhelming some of the ships. Oberyn, Jon, and Maegor recoiled from the searing heat.

The explosion was so fierce that Joffrey was forced to shield his eyes from the blast, but a devious smile pulled at his lips he knew that they were going to boil in their own skin. The fire mage seemed pleased with his work, but the Hound was disgusted and revolted as terror flushed in his stare.

The explosion engulfs the fleet. Wailing screams in agony, devoured in green flame, some jumping overboard. The immensity of the explosion is stunning. Chaos ensues on board as the ships collapse. The groans of the mast as it snapped and slammed into the ocean filled their ears. Maegor, Oberyn, and Jon were forced into the water the black water scalding hot from the wildfire.

Their ship was unharmed, but the blast forced the three men off the ship as they clawed at the bow gripping at the hands of their men as they were pulled back to the ship. Once they had a moment to catch their breath Maegor roared.

“Prepare to land.” Maegor roared with power.

“Your Grace,” Jon spoke with worry in his voice.

Oberyn rolled his eyes as he spoke with a smug smile. “The Baratheons have played their trick.”

“The wildfire,” Jon spoke in a cautious voice, but the Mayor rolled his eyes.

“I might have been born in the east but even I know that Wildfire can only be played once.

“We're too far from the gates. The fire, their archers- Hundreds will die.” Jon spoke in a cool voice.

“Thousands really” Maegor shrugged his shoulders like he didn't have a care in the world as long as he didn't die, he didn't care what happened to his men and that did not sit right with Jon.

“Come with me and take this city!” Maegor roared with power. Dornish spears and the golden company roared with power. The men yell in agreement.

Landing boats from the ships row towards the shore. Men hungry for battle rested on the ships the hate in their hearts warm them far more than the wildfire.

“More pressure! Pull! Pull! That is, it, men! Pull! Pull!” Soldier roared with command.

“He's a serious boy” Renly spoke in a shocked voice noting the silver-haired boy resting on the ship with a sword in hand and hunger in his eyes.

“They're coming. They're coming ashore.” Joffrey panicked that he was around the same age as this boy only a few years younger and yet he was weak and cowering.

“Rain fire on them,” Lonely spoke in a commanding voice.

“Archers!” A man roared with power.

“There are too many.” Joffrey sequela his eyes manic with terror.

Resting on the ground in front of the gate was Ned and Robert next to them three dire-wolves and to generations of Starks and Baratheons. Summer and Ghost were at the head of the pack while Lady was standing by Ned's massive horse. The wolves were the size of horses and they would only grow larger as time went on.

They were ready for a fight, but Renly wanted to leave nothing up to chance he would not die this day.

“Hound, form a welcome party for any Blackfyre troop that manages to touch solid ground,” Renly spoke and he swore that he could see the fear in the hound's eyes.

Fire was flying and there was no way that he was going to willingly put himself by the flames ever again.

“Let us go. The Blackfyre is sending us fresh meat. You, too.” The hound roared as he gripped tightly to the Lannister brat's shoulder gripping tightly as he yanks him off his feet forcing him to walk.

He walked down the step looking leering at the archers as he spoke in a cold menacing voice, “Any of these flaming fucking arrows come near me, I'll strangle you with your own guts.”

The archers prepare to fire. The men reached the shore, their minds racing as their hearts bombed so loudly in their ears that their minds rushed. Maegor was so close to the iron throne that he could taste the steel between his teeth.

“Kill the Lannisters!” Maegor roared in hatred.

“Loose! Loose!” Renly roars.

The archers let their flaming arrows fly, steaming pops and sharps whizzes fill the air as the sound of a bow pulling taunt. Their fingers plucking at the string. The arrows land as the soldiers rushes from the boats to the shore.

“Form the line!” Oberyn spoke.

The arrow landed. Some hit their mark. Some Baratheon men fall while others pour ashore.

“Draw! Draw! Loose! Loose!” Renly roar with power

The archers release more salvos. Maegor’s forces take heavy casualties, but they do not give up even as blood erupted into the air bathing their gleaming armor now covered in guts and soot. Yelling, the first of them make it to the base of the harbor wall. Above them, Lannister forces drop rocks, which crush the skulls of the unlucky. The sickening crunch of the loud thunks filled his ears. Maegor gets sprayed with the blood of his bludgeoned soldier. They place their shields above their heads.

“To the Mud Gate, go now!” Maegor roared with power

Oberyn had a smug smile pulling at his lips he would finally kill the people that killed his sister.

“First and second squads, to the gate! To the Mud Gate!” Oberyn roared with power

As they roared from one side of the gate the Lannister and the Baratheons were roaring on the battlefield. Robert was laughing as his hammer came down on the golden company skulls. The shrill screams echoed in the air as claws were ripping into the tender flesh of men as massive dire wolves were thrust into battle as Bran rode at his wolves’ side.

Slashing downwards his wounds were shallow like he did not want to kill them but had no choice in the matter, the rest of the Starks rushed through the bloody battlefield. The Hound leads a charge of Lannister men.

“Any man dies with a clean sword; I'll rape his fucking corpse.” The Hound turned to look at Lancel warning

He and Lancel engage with the sieging forces. They each cut down several Blackfyre men and arrows were flying the battlefield back and forth. Enhanced in battle until a gleaming steel tip arrow pierces the body of Lancel. Ethier hot pain flooded his body forcing his mind to go blank as fear flooded him. He stumbled and screamed, panting heavily as he knew that he would never make it out of this battle, so he rushed back through the opening gate.

Watching as Robert and Gendry side by side wields their massive war hammers, blood drunken smiles spilled onto their faces as they roared and slammed the hammer head into their chest plate and faces until there was a sickening crunch filling the air.

All the while as they were fighting for their lives and enjoying every minute of it Lancel rushed into Maegor's holdfast rushing to his queen and cousins’ side. The right dazzling golden lights of the castle swirled around Lancel, blinding him as he stumbled through the empty halls.

Lancel thrust the door open struggling to stay aloft as he stumbled past the guards. All the women in the tower had their heads snapped up as they stared at Lancel with wide doe-like eyes.

“Your Grace!” Lancel spoke in a raised voice.

Cersei forced a tight lip smile on her face as she resisted the urge to snarl out that he was a fool.

“What news?” Cersei spokes in a cool voice.

“The men set the river afire. Hundreds of ships are burning, maybe more. The blackfyre’s fleet destroyed, but…. his troops have landed outside the city walls.” He started as he noticed that there were women watching him.

“Where is Joffrey?” Cersei spoke in a smooth voice.

“On the battlements with his father,” Lancel spoke in a low voice.

“Bring him back inside at once.” Fear flashed in her eyes as she thought about her eldest son dying on the battlefield.

“Your Grace-” Confusion filled Lancel's heart and mind.

“What?” Cersei spoke as if it was obvious.

“The king's presence is good for morale and his bastard son cleave their way through the front lines. If the prince leaves now, then he will look weak compared to his brother.” Lancel spoke in a smooth voice.

“Bring him back to his chambers now,” Cersei spoke

Though Lance could see the hatred in her stare at the thought of the bastard prince that was gathering all the praise that her son was lacking and he had only been at the palace for a short time.

“Not here?” Lancel questioned with guinea shock.

“With the women and the children? With his pregnant wife? Do you want him to be mocked as a coward for the rest of his life?” Cersei spoke in a smooth turning voice.

“No, but I-” Lancel spoke

“Now!” Cersei roared with hate.

As she jabbed a finger at his wound, he jumped up making his way out of the door with a yelp.

The Hound decimates his foes as the chaos of battle continues. Both sides take brutal casualties. A flaming man runs screaming towards the Hound, who is frozen by the horror of the sight. An arrow takes down his assailant. The Hound looks up to see that he has Jamie to thank.

The kingslayer burst onto the scene slashing and hacking as he dropped the bow to the ground on horseback, he was unstoppable slashing and hacking at anyone that got in his way.

“Help me!” A man in pain yelled.

But he was a Blackfyre and Jamie quickly dispatches some more Blackfyre men with his might blade. The Hound is in a bit of a daze, overwhelmed by the fires, reliving his own trauma, his eyes wide like that of an ugly fat calf. He turns and re-enters the gates. Many of the Lannister forces follow. But the Baratheon men stranded firm slashing and hacking, dire-wolves and hammers flying

“Fall back! Fall back!” Men roared

Robert moved forward with hunger in his stare as he darted through the battlefield like he did not have a care in the world. Hammers massive steel and glimmering in the moonlight launched forward as green flames bathed the ground as soil bubbled and the scent of burning flesh filled the warrior’s nose.

He was not the only one that kept going, Maegor continues to be trapped under his shield at the base of the wall. His fingers were tightening against the leather grip of his blade he could see that most of the forces were rushing back into the gate on Baratheon and Stark men stayed by the side of their king while the Lannister ran like the cowards that they were.

“Get the ladders up!” Maegor roared.

His forces bring ladders to the wall. They set them, and Maegor began to climb not the least bit caring about what might be on the other side of the wall. As he began to climb, dodging rocks. He makes it to the top and engages with the Lannister forces atop the wall. The Baratheons are laughing at the Lannisters for beginning cowards.

“Faster, you bastards! Faster! Come on, kill the scum!” Maegor roared with fury as he looked over to the Lannisters man he knew that Oberyn wanted the hound dead. The very Hound that was still in a daze from the flame.

“Someone brings me a drink.” The Hound roared.

A soldier hands him a skin. He drinks and spits it out.

“Fuck the water. Bring me wine.” The Hound roared

Another soldier gives him wine, and he drinks deeply. He shuffles through the courtyard, passing the Lannisters. More boats come ashore. The soldiers overturn the boat to use it as protection from the arrows.

As men lost their arrows the Hound was prepared to go back out there again but his feet would not let him move, he walked up the steps looming on the wall and noticed that Joffrey’s blade was clean. They watch as an overturned boat makes slow progress, another group of men with a battering ram overtakes them and reaches the wall.

“Forward ladders!” A soldier roared.

Another ladder is raised against the wall. The boat is placed over the ram. Meanwhile, men are crushed by thrown rocks.

“Heave! Heave!” The oilers roared as Lancel rushed forward to his cousin.

“Your Grace, the queen has sent me to bring you back to the Red Keep.”

Joffrey looked over to the battlefield and noticed that Jamie was among the men still on the battlefield slashing and hacking as his bastard brother was roaring with amusement as he flew by his father’s side. Mighty war hammer was just as large as his father if not larger. Joffrey knew that if he left then he would be the one that was a shame but if he went out there then he would die.

“What did my mother say exactly? Did she have urgent business with me?” Joffrey spoke as Lancel watched with annoyance.

“She did not say, Your Grace,” Lancel spoke, forcing Joffrey to hesitate.

“All men to the battlements!” Renly roared looking down at his nephew disgusted with the thought that he would run away.

“Ser Boros, Ser Mandon, stay with my uncle and represent the king on the field of battle,” Joffrey spoke in a cold voice. Both knights simply nodded as he looked over to the hound.

“Dog with me” Joffrey spoke in a screechy voice.

“Archers, hold your line or I'll kill you myself.” Renly roared with power.

A bundle of stones is mismanaged at the top of the wall, and it comes crashing down.

The Lannister men gather in the courtyard, looking for direction. While the Baratheon and Stark men were slaughtering outside the gates the Lannister were cowardly quivering behind the gates. The battering ram pounds relentlessly into the wooden door as Renly gets ready to lead the charge.

“Your king is out there fighting, yes one prince fled but another stood firm at his father's side swinging a mighty war hammer. The Starks are the fewest in number in the capital and yet here they are fighting for a city that they do not call home. Do not fight for honor. Do not fight for glory. Do not fight for riches, because you will not get any. This is your city and the Blackfyre child means to sack. That is your gate he is ramming. If he gets in, it will be your houses he burns, your gold he steals, your women he will rape. Fight for the city with the people that are already fighting for you.” Renly roared.

The battering ram is making progress.

The Lannister forces raise their swords and shout in support. Renly strides off, and they follow making their way through the tunnels the very tunnels that Ned wanted to use to sneak up on the forces. Now Renly would use them to fight. As Renly uses his blade to remove the chain from the sewer's gate. He steps out onto the shore and the Lannister men follow quietly. He never thought that he would be leading Lannister men. The battle rages. The ram has made further progress. Flaming arrows still raining down.

Renly comes up behind the man and slices his ankle wide open. He falls and Renly lands another heavy blow, blood spurting. He then rallies his men forward, coming behind the Baratheon forces.

“Attack!” Renly roared with power.

Their surprise attack is successful, and they quickly dispatch the vulnerable men. They overturn the boat, and someone above drops a torch inside to set it aflame. They all celebrate with a resounding cheer. Though the Blackfyre continues to wage a brutal war against the Lannister men atop the wall

Renly battles a soldier with a mace. The soldier gains the advantage but is then tackled by one of Renly's men. He smiles, while a Baratheon knight notices him and walks forward. He swings his sword at Renly, but he dances out the way and slammed his blade through his throat as the Baratheon knight stabbed at his back.

Another wave of soldiers approaches from the shore. Some are mounted.

Maegor could barely understand what he was seeing; he did not think that the Lannister of the west would come back to the capitol. The mounted soldiers attack. The battle rages. The mounted soldiers have the advantage. Tywin was leading the pack

The Blackfyre forces rated as Oberyn rushed to Maegor's side, yanking on him as Jon shed their men back to boats.

“Back to the boats!” Jon roared.

“Stand and fight! Stand and fight, damn you!” Maegor roared as Oberyn yanked him back with all his strength. 


	43. Harpies, Dragons, and Frogs Oh My

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update I have been super busy but I'm going to be updating more regularly, and there is only one more chapter then we will skip ahead a few years to the final battle between the Blackfyres, Baratheons, and Targaryens.

The Red Women I

It was time for them to go, she could sense it as she drifted amongst the garden, she could see them exhausted covered in dirt and grime. Their faces were gaunt like they had not eaten in days. Occasionally, they would toss them some food into the gates that would last them a few days if they were smart about it. Now it was time to go.

The red woman looked to the frog prince, the smug and powerful air that he had once was long gone. He was not a prince in the middle of a war but a boy starving. Men swirled around the red women rushing off to the caves to collect the eggs that had been shaking violently for the past couple months.

They knew that the queens would be giving birth soon and they would just make it in time for the new dragon lords births.

“Get ready” The red woman spoke in a cold voice.

Her voice boomed over the darkness as she stood firm before the princes each one of her men had three eggs in hands as they made their way out of the gardens. The Dornish men were looking around in utter confusion. The frog prince was the first to speak letting his confusion be well known.

“Where are we going” The young prince spoke in a smooth voice.

The darkness swirled around them as it sat heavy just over their heads as if it were waiting to crush them. The red woman simply smiled a sly cunning one that screamed you are going to get everything that you deserve.

“To meet the dragons like you wanted. Take them” She spoke in a cunning voice.

They were going to Meeren.

Aegon X

In the dead of the night, Aegon could hear the sound of slapping shoes against the ground as the wails of his wives could be heard throughout the castle they were giving birth to and it worried him more than anything. After all they were in a city that they had been ruling over for 9 months was still filled with men that wanted to kill them no matter how diplomatic or ruthless they were. They were still a threat lurking around every corner.

Aegon was pacing as Helios rested at his feet, his massive head resting on his ground as he looked up at his bonded warg with one eye cracked open. There was annoyance in his brown eyes as he leered at his warg.

“Enough with the pacing Aegon or Ill bit you” His voice drifted into Aegon’s mind

A faint smile traced against Aegon’s lips as he listened to his lion for a stilling moment, a sly smile on his face.

“You wouldn't dare” Aegon spoke in a smooth voice.

Walking over to one of the open balconies to see his three-year-old dragon, his dazzling crimson color was shining in the night as ruby red eyes were locked on Aegon. His long coiling neck darted through the air; his thick black claws were ripping through the railing. As his massive wingspan of 200 feet.

Seeing him had a way of easing Aegon as he ran his fingers tenderly along the dragon's neck a warm smile on his lips as he took in a deep breath calming his senses as the hot sizzling skin felt like heaven against his fingertips. 

“My King there is a problem that needs your attention. It is the sons of the harpy” A thick Valyrian accent echoed loudly in the air.

Aegon could barely think straight he could not deal with problems right now, he needed to be at the side of his wives, his mother was with her as was Meleys. There was something off to their relationship ever since their fight and Aegon did not care. He tried doing things her way and it never worked. But she did not listen, and he was tired of telling her. She would be at the mercy of murderous men and then she would know that peace is not always the answer. 

Slowly turning his head Aegon could see a golden hazy stare coming from Missandei, her eyes gentle and filled with grief. The red rim around her eyes told me that she had been crying and Aegon knew the news could not be good.

“How many deaths this time.” Aegon spoke in a husky voice.

Missandei’s golden eyes began to well with fresh tears and pain, her grief sat so heavy in the air that Helios and Nala started to let out low rumblings grow as the lioness walked in her cubs nowhere to be seen. Aegon knew that they were with his children to think that they would all have lions and dragons. There was a part of Aegon that was relieved by that fact no one would protect them more than those lions and dragons. Especially now with the harpies lurking around the city.

“My king” The soft hushed tone of Ser Barristan forced my head to snap up.

Ser Jorah was protecting the Queens with Arthur while Ser Barristan and the three blood riders rested with their king refusing to leave their side.

Slowly Aegon walked down the hall Missandei did not move. She stood there mute as she fought the urge to run into the room, but she knew better than to worry Dany and Enyo at such a time, so she rushed off to be at her king's side. Sucking in her emotions as she sighed heavily like she was guilt ridden with pain.

‘the recent losses included one of my brothers your grace.” Missandei spoke in a gentle voice.

As they stalked into the throne room, they could see Rhaegar and Viserys both exhausted, but they were standing firm beside the three thrones ready to act as needed. The red waste was theirs as were the three slave cities and they even came to an arrangement with the empire of Yi Ti. They could keep all their land and the emperor could stay the emperor, but he would rule at the pleasure of the Targaryens. He was an emperor in name only; he was truly a warden just like those in the seven kingdoms.

It was better than being burned to the ground. A show of force won them over and sly words helped get the rest of the job done. Peace and death mixed were what saved them and got them new kingdoms. Even now some of the weaker free cities that did not have militaries were making sure to be on the winning side.

“Egg? What is going on? Don't tell me another Harpy attack” Rhaegar spoke in a worried and exasperated voice.

Rhaegar had his own reason to worry, Aegon's mother was pregnant once more and his father feared that this time, she might not survive the birth of more children.

“Yes, more than a few lives were claimed we should get going.” With a sharp nod Aegon made his way through the throne room.

The throne room was filled with people as brazier was lit filling the room with hot suffocating air. Darrio, Plumm and the commander of the brazen beast stood in silence giving Aegon firm nods. The Perfume lords that Aegon hated more than anything but knew that they needed to be of use while they were in the city and they would be dead when they left, he would not let them tear their city apart.

“Your grace where is her grace” Aegon sat down on his gray and red dragon wolf throne; his exhausted body tried to shut down. Viserys let out a soft laugh as he stood at his nephews back. 

“How did they get killed? Why were they alone? I ordered that we started to go out in groups of 5 to 10 or at the very least 2 per group so that they were not taken by surprise or overpowered.” Aegon spoke ignoring Viserys.

He had been in their camp for nine months and he looked like he might have repented but that didn't mean that Aegon liked him or trusted him not with his children around and Meleys began delusion, Aegon would not trust him until he showed true sacrifice.

“One went out drinking he was off duty when he was killed, another was visiting a whorehouse, a third was on his way home. Their Bodies were dumped at the foot of the temple they have had their proper burial, the little scribes await your permission to leave so that she might see her brother at the temple of the graces.” Grey worm spoke in a mute voice.

“Continue the patrols, while you patrol the land, I'm going to patrol the sky. First though I will be here at the side of my children I will not have the harpies taking anyone else from our households. Missandei joins your brother at the temple.” A sneer pulled at Aegon's lips.

With a sharp nod he started to make his way back to the room. The loud shrieking of his wives had come to an end and he wanted nothing more than to see what was going on if his children and his wives had made it out of the ordeal alive. He had never been so worried.

Both his wives were larger this time around then the first time around and they had never been pregnant at the same time. His body was racked with tension, his mind shaking and weary. His mind was blooming with hesitation and cold seeded fear that they would die in the birthing bed.

Ares reacted to his rage and worry as he roared with fury flying about the vast blackness of the city crimson flames leaving his lips as waves of heat flush against his skin as he stalked back to the room. Aegon knew that Ares was burning anyone that had the resemblance of a harpy. They crept in the shadows waiting for their time to strike and one of these days that time to strike will be their last.

Aegon did not want to lay the whole city to waste but the Harpies knew that and were using that to their advantage. He knew that if something were not done soon, they would sneak into the castle walls and there would be no were left to hide for anyone. Dragons mean nothing if they poison you or kill you in your sleep.

Hatred filled Aegon's chest as the boots slammed so hard against the ground that the sound was deafening like a steady thump that never came to an end. It was only when he was back standing before the door of the birthing chamber the silence haunting and chilling, but wails erupted some powerful and outrage others whimpering and whining.

His heart boomed in his chest as his mind rushed, Rhaego was nearly 2 and resting in his bed, the triplets were a year. He knew that they would be well protected because of their dragons. But these new children would not have dragons or lions, or even wolves; it worried him that they would be the most vulnerable to the harpies.

His hand hovered over the knob like he was not sure if he should enter or not, but the door opened for him taking that option away. Meleys stood on the other side of the door, her eyes bright and filled with joy. Even though her and her brother were at odds that did not matter now the only thing that mattered was her sister.

She moved to the side allowing her brother to walk into the room his heart hammering in his chest his tongue heavy like lead in his mouth his mind blank as a hunger to see his children and wives made his moved into a room that had two large feather beds and women fluttering about among them his mother who had an adoring look in her eyes as she stared down at her grandchildren.

Dany held one babe at the breast, her hair plastered against her forehead, her stormy violet eyes were light and sparkling with exhaustion, while a handmaiden held another babe. Dany had twins, one was a boy with silver wisps of hair and smooth stormy gray eyes. He had an even mix of the brooding good looks of the north and the beauty of Valyria, as the handmaiden carefully made her way over to Aegon. He gladly took my son from his arms.

His heart grew light with love as he smiled gently at his stormy gray eyes he definitely had the look of the starks about him, he had a smile pulling at his lips as his gummy mouth stared back at Aegon. 

A wide loving girl pulled at Dany’s face as she looked proudly at her twins, though Aegon could tell that she was fighting off the heavy hand of sleep she managed to focus her stare as she spoke in a husky yet clear voice, “Meet your twins Daeron and Daemon”

Daeron had thick brown curls but dazzling indigo eyes, he had the facial features of the Starks but there was this hidden ethereal beauty that Aegon knew would be more prominent as he grew in age. 

A warm smile fluttered onto Aegon's face as a consuming warmth spread throughout his chest until it reached his head and his toes. He couldn't have been prouder; he just wished that they would have the same advantages as his children but the dragons were only 4 it would be 6 more years until they could have a clutch six more years of them being vulnerable to the attacks of the Harpies and the Baratheons.

“Daeron was born just a few minutes before Daemon” Her smile grew tired as the midwife pulled Daeron out of her arms placing him gently in a dragon styled crib.

A gentle smile pulled at her lips as Daenerys began to drift off to sleep with a tired smile on her face. Aegon handed off Daemon to his mother as he looked to his second wife and sister.

Enyo had that same look of exhaustion as Dany but there was a fire in her eyes like she wanted to know what was going on in the city but Aegon could not trouble her with that not right now. She held two babes in her arms and a third off to the side.

There were two girls both with wispy brown hair but while one had dark stormy grays eyes the other had smooth violet eyes other than that they were identical in every way. Aegon could not help but smile as he looked down to his children.

When he shifted to look at his son, he noticed that his son was all Targaryen there was not a single hint of the north in him. He had dark violet eyes so dark that they swallowed everything that met his stare, and soft white and silver whips of hair that danced along his head. He was a robust babe with a large chunky little fist that swung in the air.

The moment that he saw his father his wails grew as he demanded attention Aegon could only chuckle as he took his son into his arms. Pulling him close as a warm smile pulled at his lips the babe began to calm as Aegon stared down at the young babes.

“Daeron, the Daemon, then Aelora, then Elaena, and finally Valarr, I saw no need to saddle him with a name like Aegon. No need to torture the poor boy” Enyo spoke in a taunting voice.

She knew how much her brother hated to be named after such a famous man, he took over the seven kingdoms and so many Aegon's tarnished that name. Aegon never thought that he would be able to live up to it. But now he brought dragons back to the world and with his wives he would take over the east and then the west. One land united under the Targaryen name.

He knew that any son he had would never be able to live that name down, and he never outright said it but he didn't want any of his kids to be saddled with a name like that. He might have said thank you if his mother was not standing beside them. A warm smile pulled at his lips as he looked down to Valarr.

“I figure Val for short, just like your Egg, and Mel is Mel. Everyone needs an endearing or embarrassing nickname.” She giggled gently a bit livelier than Daenerys was.

Though when you have had three children the first time that you give birth the second time is not nearly as taxing. Aegon shook his head but his son seemed to squeal with delight at the mention of his nickname or maybe his father’s embarrassment he was not quite sure. But a weak smile pulled at his lips as he let out a heavy sigh. As he shook his head.

“The city?” Enyo spoke in a cold voice.

The joy drained from her eyes as she thought about all that might have fallen in the harpy attack, she was a firm believer in burning the city down but even Aegon knew that was not right. He sighed as his shoulders dipped and his chest meant to cave in as he shook his head heavily; he knew that there was no time to speak about death, but he had no other choice.

“A few unsullied and freed men but now is not the time it can wait. I am more worried about the children. They won't have dragons to protect them like Oceanus and the others do for the children.” Aegon's mind was plagued with worry and fear, when he was on the battlefield there was no worry or fear.

He knew what he had to do, and he was quite skilled with a sword he never feared that he would fall victims to any man or woman that might be on the battlefield. But to begin a parent in a hostile land is something else entirely. He often wondered if this was how his parents felt when they were in Ebonhead and all the other cities before we finally had enough power to protect ourselves.

“I'm not religious you know that, but I know that the 14 flames will provide them all that they need in protection whether it be lions or dragons they will nerve be unguarded.” Enyo spoke in a warm voice.

So confident that for a moment Aegon could not help but believe it but he did not know what was to come none of them could only hope and grasp at straws.

The Frog Prince II

He watched the sea burning, the screams of men filled the air as men with Harpies masks were strung up and killed or left for dead in the red baking sands of Meeren. For a moment, the young Dornish prince was disgusted with what he saw but the red women spoke in a cool voice.

“Slavers, they have been trying to kill the Targaryens for quite some time now, it is good that we came just in time for the princess and prince’s to receive the eggs and ease the King's fears.” She spoke in a cool voice pride glimmering in her smoldering eyes.

Quentyn watched in wonder as a dragon of jade and bronze flew through the sky, his beauty breathtaking as he noticed that there was a man on the dragon's back. He never met him but the moment that he spotted his dazzling silver hair and bright indigo eyes he knew him to be his good uncle. The man that left his wife and children to die.

“Come the king and his queens were waiting.” The red women spoke in a smooth voice as they stalked through the city force to ride behind the horse of the red women, the armor, and a few mystics as well as the leader of the Lands beyond the Asshai.

The sound of Dothraki screamers filled the air and as the frog prince and his company half-starved were forced to walk through the city as if they were the slaves and not great warriors and noble men. They were too weak to walk, their legs shaking, their muscles weak and their minds sweaty and weak.

With a heavy breath, the young prince noticed a large looming pyramid coming into view as two unsullied guards dressed in black leather stared back at me.

“We are here to see the stallion that will mount the world and his fillies. I am Melisandre from the lands beyond the Asshai and I bring gifts for the newborn babies and their parents. “Her high Valyrian voice was elegant and smooth.

For a moment they did not move their eyes were blank and a smooth look on their face as they finally nodded their heads and stood aside allowing them to move up the smooth spiraling staircase. The area was cramping but this way it made it harder for a large force to take the castle.

The heat of Meeren forced tendrils of sweat to cool down the princes back as he and his companions struggled up the steps while cuffed. The humid air made them feel as though they were walking in a swamp. But still they moved on though it was not like they had much of a choice. As he made his way up the steps to the throne room where the prince noticed that there were three people sitting in thrones.

One was a dazzling girl with silver hair and bright violet eyes that were locked on a man that stood before them. The other was a woman with smooth silver and white curls that ripple down her back and smooth ringlets. Her bright eyes a smoky gray betraying her Stark roots. Then there was the silver chair king who had bright indigo eyes that were darkness with an unspoken fury that was unrelated to the manner before them.

The group watched as a man bowed before the Queens and king; they were looking at a man that bow before them in a torkah of silks of green and golden jewel. He is a tall, very slender man with long legs. His placid eyes sparkled as he stared at the king and queen as his amber skin started back at the group perfect and flawless. He has wiry red-black hair that shone in the light as he spoke in a polite tone.

“Your radiances, your majesty, this time I have come with a man who would like to see the fighting pits resorted.” He spoke in a heavy voice as a woman and 3 men all covered in scars spoke about how much they wanted to have their fighting pits back. They would not say a word to simply judge them from their thrones.

After a few panning moments of silence Daenerys spore in a chilled tone, “We will think of what you have said.” After a sharp curt nod, all of them made their way out of the room.

The red women could see that they were fighting the urge to roll their eyes as the young king spoke in high Valyrian. The prince was able to understand but he knew that he could not speak as well.

“Restore the fighting pit they must be out of their minds; they are the harpies feeding them to Helios and be down with this. These harpies have been in our home far too many times.” The venomous hate in his voice shook the prince.

The young gray eyes queen spoke in a more murderous voice, “I still say burn the whole city of no good rats and see who crawls you to the ashes.” The gray eyes queened shifted her stare to the frog prince as her vision narrowed.

Daenerys seemed to be the only one that was at peace with the decision, “Opening the fight pits might ease the tension and if they want it open who are we to say no. If we want to stop the bloodshed we might have to compromise. Meeting adversity with strength is not always the best way”

At the mention of her words, annoyance peaked in the Stark children's eyes as they fought the urge to sneer, their eyes fanning with flames as they fought the urge to growl and snarl as if they were an animal then person. Thunder roared and shook the throne room as the frog prince looked around in fear.

“You sound like Meleys” Enyo rolled her eyes as a young girl with caramel colored skin stalked to the center of the room as if to gain their attention.

“You have guest my king, my queens,” Missandei spored in a smooth voice.

Their eyes snapped up to the young scribe then the red woman that was walking into the room. There was a proud look in her eyes as she stalked to the center of the room nodding her head to the man that was the leader of the lands beyond the assai.

“I'm and Melisandre and this is the head priest of the lands beyond the Asshai, we are here to pledge our facility, Qi Ti has fallen to you as has the cities of the red waste, even Qarth and the slave cities had fallen to you even some of the free cities. You will be the stallion that mounts the world and us your magical advisors if you would have us. To prove our fealty to you we have brought you a number gifts, all of them priceless.” The red woman's voice drew on as she clapped her hands.

The first gift was a massive chest that the prince knew held the eggs that he had been searching for. When they opened there was an assortment of 10 eggs varying in color and size. There was a warm smugness to the air as power crackled around the eggs.

“Gifts for the children and the children to come” The red woman nodded firmly as the Unsullied with wide eyes brought the chest back to the king and queen.

There was a moment of silence passing between them as the red women spoke once more, “I saw the blue dragon on my way in here, another one of my gifts to you, it was I that freed your cousin and aunt from their chains. Now I give you another gift: the secret to crafting Valyrian steel armor needs only the magical blood of a valerian and the flames of your dragons are required to craft the steel.”

A large burly man with hands like catcher mitts and deep tan skin with crinkles around his eyes and a mighty hammer resting on his back walked forward bending the knee and bending his head.

“It would be an honor to craft for the king and queens of the world and hope that one day a Targaryen rules over this city once more.” The armor spoke in a flattering voice.

After a long moment there was nothing but silence. The king and queens were shocked into silence; it was only after a long moment that the red women spoke. “May I present the last part of your gift, Prince Quentyn Nymeros Martell second-born child of Prince Doran Martell he is working for the Blackfyre he knows that he is a Blackfyre and still they fight for false prince” The moment she spoke and this time anger flared in the air and there was a stillness but one born outrage not shock and wonder. 

Quentyn knew that they might be his last time breathing. Shudder or fear rushed through his spine as Aegon spoke in a rude voice.

“Throw them in chains. We will deal with him later. First I would like to speak with you Melisandre.” It was all that Aegon said as a black hood fell before the prince's eyes and he was carted through the palace.

Would he make it back to Westeros in a box or in chains? Either way he knew that it would not be good.


	44. 4 Years Later and What Comes Next

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait things have been a little crazy but here it is and Im working on the next chapter now so it should be up either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.

Lyra III

“You have guest my king, my queens,” Missandei spored in a smooth voice.

Lyra snapped her head up, shock and dismay filling her chest and her mind as she peered into the throne room to find the very women that had saved her from the Blackfyre a few years ago. It was hard to believe she never thought that she would see that woman ever again yet here she stood with a massive chest in hand, swearing fealty and bringing the seamstress of Valyrian steel.

Her eyes were scanning the first gift was a massive chest that the prince knew held the eggs that he had been searching for. When they opened there was an assortment of 10 eggs varying in color and size. There was a warm smugness to the air as power crackled around the eggs. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch the smooth shimmering scales of the eggs. Her eyes were locked on a burnt orange egg that reminded her of a sunset with golden swirls that almost looked like clouds.

A large burly man with hands like catcher mitts and deep tan skin with crinkles around his eyes and a mighty hammer resting on his back walked forward bending the knee and bending his head. Aegon was staring at him, doubt whirling its way into his mind as he looked over the man with half lidded eyes. His head was resting on his chin as he leaned back into his throne, the massive lion at his feet was slowly starting to lower his body.

Lyra could see the way that the lion’s legs were tensing as he lowered to the ground like he was ready to pounce on the gets in front of him at a moment’s notice. 

“I want to see this for myself, you don't give away the secrets of Valyrian steel easily. Get me a knife and ready Ares. Grey Worm brings them.” Aegon gestured to the guest as he began to rise from the throne.

As he rose a servant brought him a glimmer carving knife and a golden bowl, he sliced through the smooth white palm watching the skin begin to split as crimson fluid spilled from his hand as he crushed his palm close as blood gushed from his hand.

“Aegon” Dany gasped as she gripped tightly to his shoulder. 

“You're an idiot,” Enyo slapped the back of her husband's head.

Lyra had to hide her smile. She was always so interested in seeing the relationship between the two wives. Dany was sweet and did her best to temper the two dragons’ wolves, but Enyo did not hide her feelings. She grew up as a warrior, Dany was trained to be a warrior, so their temperament and natural disposition was going to be different.

“It's just a little blood. Is this enough?” Aegon questions.

All their heads snapped up to the older man who was staring at the king with wide eyes as the older man nodded his head together the whole royal party descended the steps while Aegon held the golden bowl now painted red. The soft sloshing was the only thing that they heard as they descended the spiraling stairs.

As he moved further down the steps there was red sand baking in the sun where a massive red dragon was slowly starting to stir from a deep sleep. It was after all burning men the whole night and must have been exhausted.

But the moment that he sensed his warmth the massive dragon began to stir, slamming his wings arms against the ground. There were other men rushing about the sands with a massive cart in tow; they did not look like the king's men. Lyra knew that they had to be a part of the approaching party, there was a smooth black anvil with metallic ore that looked like regular steel and a massive hammer.

All that you would need to craft a weapon there was a giant smelting pot that was placed in front of Ares. Ruby silt eyes were locked on the men teaching their face and their body language making sure that they were no threat then and only then did he turn to look to Aegon. The young king had a smile on his face as he gave the smith the blood bowl before stalking over to Ares more carefree around his dragon.

He lifted his injured hand up so he would not lose any more blood. Ares ' long coiling redneck baking in the heat of the sun lowered as a massive head hovered over Aegon's hands a long coiling fork tongue began to run across Aegon's palm as he smiled weakly at him.

“You have the blood, and a dragon crafts the weapon.” The older man looked enthused by the thought of finally crafting a new weapon from new Valyrian steel.

Lyra on the other hand did not like any of this. She spoke up as mistrust formed on her face, “Don't trust Aegon, she might have saved them from the Blackfyre, but she was going to give those eggs to her before she found them.”

The moment that she spoke the red woman snapped her head up there was no fear in her stare if anything she seemed annoyed that I would be so rude but instead she spoke for herself.

“I thought that he was you and when I found out that I was lying to me freed them and handed them the eggs. Anyone else would have kept the eggs and given them to the Blackfyre in the hopes of riding their coattails to the iron throne. Instead I freed them and even took the Blackfyre’s cohorts’ hostage. Back in the west they think that Rhaegar left his family for dead. The Martells are bitter, they want you dead and instead of siding with them I brought them here to you. If I could not be trusted, why would I risk my life if I were not going to be loyal to your cousin.” The Red woman stared at Aegon.

Aegon looked mute as he ran his fingers along the snout of the young dragon.

“That not true we took him from the battle he had every intention of fighting and dying on that field like a fucking idiot.” Arthur spoke up.

The hate in his bright violet eyes at the thought that his Dornish country men were this foolish and pig headed he was too noble and kind and would never leave them. Arthur looked outrageously annoyed even and he was not going to let this stand. He stalked off, his fist clenched and rage filling his eyes. Aegon knew that he was going off to the dungeon to speak with the young Dornish prince.

“Should I stop them” Ser Jorah spoke blankly.

Ser Jorah's gentle blue eyes were locked on his king then his queens as each one of them shared a uniform look.

“No” All three rulers spoke at the same time as the blood riders and the unsullied stood at a tension swirled over their guests.

“It would be an honor to craft for the king and queens of the world and hope that one day a Targaryen rules over this city once more.” The armor spoke in a flattering voice.

Without a moment's notice he went to craft pouring more into the pot, “the fire my lord” the armor spoke.

Aegon nodded his head as he looked over to his allies and guests alike and spoke in a smooth voice, “you all might want to step back.”

Aegon did not move nor did the queens, a barrage of flames danced out of the mighty dragon’s mouth snapped wide open as black smoke danced into the sky and the scent of sulfur filled all their noses.

The golden smelting pot began to heat up until it was a bright red like the pot itself was going to melt. The black smoke that began to dance off the pot was changed for white to black to a smoky gray. The dazzling flames took all their breaths away.

It was a sight to behold and one that they all held in silence once the flames came to an end, the pounding of a hammer, sizzles and soft pings all filled their ears. It took a while, but the result was dazzling a new Valyrian steel blade. The aura when dealing with snow white color. Aegon's breath was taken away; he could not believe it was a new Valyrian sword. A sword that would be for his son.

After a long moment Aegon spoke in a smooth voice. “If you wish to be the smith for the royal family we would be honored to have you, as for you Melisandre, I don't know whether to trust you or not so you will stay here in court and if I smell even a whiff of treachery your lord of light will not save you. You offer your fidelity and I accept it as for your gift, the frog prince and his family are under wrong assumption and killing them will only make it worse. They will lay in chains until we get back to the west. I am sure even Arthur is doing his best to set them straight. Once we have all the wet stable and our dragons are larger, we will take the west back.”

Aegon spoke and his queens simply nodded like they were with his decision. It made them wonder what was going on in the dueling with the knight and young prince.

Arthur I

The darkness became normal to them; they had been trapped in cages, hulls, and had bags thrown over their heads. Begin cloaked in darkness so long that now it seemed easier and easier for them to see in the dark.

Bright orange flames were licking against the walls forcing all their heads to snap up. The soft dripping of the water seeping through the rocks force the air to grow heavy and damp with moisture. Quentyn looked to see a murderous man dressed in a snow-white cape and enameled golden armor with scales. Cunning violet eyes that were jaded and filled with venom.

Quentyn thought that it was outrageous that he was the one that was angry with them, he left Elia for dead and he was the one that was angry. His golden hair and mocha-colored skin were pushed to the right as Quentyn noticed Dawn, the massive star sword that was equal to that of a Valyrian blade, the moment that I saw who he was.

His broad shoulder and still tone body had a way of giving off this imposing air that would make lesser men shudder and at the moment Quentyn felt like a lesser man the moment that he met Aegon but now he felt below most men. 

“I know you are shocked that I'm alive, you're not the only one, I'm shocked that you and your father are so fucking stupid. Rhaegar did not leave Elia! I took him! He was going to die! A blind man could see that Rhaegar was no match for Robert; he would have died. I would not have him die. I took him, and I left Elia for dead. Only me! He is the last Targaryen that we knew of and I was not going to let him die. But you morons let Varys and the Blackfyre twist things, you are all fucking idiots.” He had a righteous fury filling his eyes as he looked down on me as the scum of the earth.

The loud rattling of chains filled his ears as Quentyn looked up to see hate falling in the eyes of the Unsullied guards, boys with no balls or hair on their chin only cold dead eyes. His clean-shaven mocha skin stared back at me as he gripped tight to his spear and slammed the but against the ground.

Quentyn did not know what to believe or what they should say, instead he sat there mature with his two companions, each one of them not sure what they should believe. Arthur was not the kind of man that was a liar, so it made them think that maybe there was some truth to their words. Where are they beginning to be used?

Confusion ate away at them as Rhaegar descended the stairs; his echoing steps seemed to taunt them as he placed a gentle hand on the shoulders shaking with rage and hatred.

“Easy there Arthur they are children they had no clue that they were beginning to use I blame Oberyn and Doran they were probably the ones that set this in motion. Quentyn what Arthur said is true they took me. I did not want to go but I did not try to get back to Dorne when I heard of their deaths. I could have made them take Rhaenys or Aegon instead they died. We both hold some responsibility for their loss. My son will let you keep your heads when we return to the west. We will send word to your father and try to work this out. If that does not work, I will take Eragon and burn down your home and place a Targaryen in their place.” Rhaegar bit at them.

Hatred filling his stare as his hands were shaking from fury as pain fluttered across his stare “I lost my wife and two of my children and you dare think that I would willingly let that happen. To think that your uncle and father would lie to twist and manipulate people to the side of a Blackfyre that wants to burn the cities and all of them alive. You dare judge me!!”

Rhaegar stood seething as he let out a heavy breath, “they are of high birth and that does warrant some respect, get them chambers betting their station and make sure that they never leave those rooms. Try to escape if you wish but there are hungry lion cubs that need to learn how to hunt and you will have the best time to test their skill.” Rhaegar began to ascend the steps as more guards came down to help Arthur move them.

Only time would tell how this would end for them but the west as well.

Aegon XI

Four years later

The roar of dragons was filling the air, the children were flying about with joy, their dragons rushing after them. Aegon’s children had both dragons and a pride of lions protecting them, he never feared that they would be endangered even with the constant problems with the harpies. Meleys and Viserys had gotten married and had a child of their own, a girl that they named after our fallen sister Rhaenys, she got the last dragon egg given to them by the red women.

But Lyanna also had another children as well and unlike the other children she didn't have an egg when she was born, it was only a year ago that Silverwing had a clutch of dragon eggs and once was given to the little girl as pure as snow perfect for her looks seeing as how the little girl was the twin of her mother. Thick brown curls rippling down her back and bright gray eyes that were wide with love. She loved the ride and spent every waking moment either with her dragon or her brown mare.

While the children were playing the wardens of the east were making their way to the city even now to see their rulers off after one last meeting and a hope of putting down the rest of son of the harpies. Then and only then would the Targaryen move on; they wanted to rule the whole world, not a portion of the world. 

They were even sending a party from the lands beyond the Asshai to try and settle Valyria in the name of the Targaryens; their family was expanding as was their dragon army. They now have 6 full grown dragons at the age of 8 the biggest of the three begin the king and his queen.

At the age of four Ares, Balerion and Toxicana had a wingspan of 200 wingspan and now they had a wingspan of 400 feet they were thick and muscular come to the other dragons that were leaner and faster. They looked built for battle; they forced all the east to bend to their will, but the harpy was getting better and better at hiding in their little holes. This last week would be their last time dealing with the harpy.

Aegon’s body felt rigid and he was tired of talking about the harpies he was ready to kill them, all of them.

“The pale mare helped slow them down, but it did nothing to diminish their ranks. With the wardens coming to the city we will finally put an end to them.” Her tone was calculating and slightly annoyed.

Enyo was sitting in her chair as she looked out the window, her eyes scanning the horizon where the children were riding their dragons. Joy on all their faces as she noticed Meleys, birthing that first child was hard for her and she swore that she would not have another. But they needed to further the line and she needed to get over it. She was weak willed the fire that ignited in her twin and elder brother was not set ablaze in her not yet.

She hardly left her precious princess side and Viserys still did nothing to be trusted at least not in the eyes of Aegon so he was resting with his wife looking at the rest of the children making sure that none of them fell off the dragon back. The one soaring the highest was Rhaego he would be six and hopefully they would be back in the west on his name day.

Oceanus was moving faster; he was 200 feet wingspan and just as beefy as his father and mother’s dragon. The Dothraki were most protective of him because they knew that he would be the one that leads the Khalasar. His eyes were bright and daring. He was mature for his age, something that he got from living with the thought knowing that there were men hunting him down.

His wife will be the eldest daughter of Enyo, Rhae, she was a sweet 4-year-old girl, but she had her mother’s fiery temper that once flared could not be soothed. She much like her mother trained in the martial arts; she wields two daggers with great skill. She has the deep smoke gray eyes of the Starks and the matching long face but the ethereal beauty of the Targaryens there was a sort of glow.

She was just as breathtaking as her mother and father and by far the most beautiful of all the children. She rode a gorgeous dragon, the left side of the dragon split evenly in half was an icy blue showing the stark roots of the girl while the crimson red side of the body showed off her Targaryen side. The she-dragon was as breathtaking as her rider. Aegon found himself staring out the window the same as his wife. There was a steady silence and finally Aegon spoke.

“Once we kill them we will head out, the ships are prepared, the supplies are loaded, the unsullied and the Dothraki are ready to grow, the dragons are large enough and it is about time that we put the Baratheons and the Blackfyre in their place. The moment that we land I am going to the capital and burning their fleet and as many men that I can. I will end this war and I will do it quickly before any more Targaryen lives are taken.” Aegon spoke in a cold calculating voice.

He started to rise as he looked over to his father daring him to tell him no, he was 20 he would do as he pleased. After a long moment Enyo started to rise as she pulled at her silks that she was less than happy about wearing , But they were going to make a big deal about the wardens beginning all here in the city for the first time since they took over the east.

“Let us get this over with. I am ready to start this war. Let us open the fighting pits, kill the harpies and get going.” Enyo was growing impatient 8 years and the conquest of the east would be over and the west would start.” She spoke in a smooth voice.

She stalked out the room ready for this as Aegon noticed that Meleys was gathering the children getting them ready for the opening of the fighting pits.

Rhaenys I

The young four-year-old princess watched the crowd going by as she sat on a gray mare running a smooth hand against her silver mane as her soft brown eyes greeted the young princess. At the head of the pack were her cousins who had wide smiles and excited looks on their face as they stared up at their dragons.

Rhaenys on the other hand sat towards the middle of the column of people with her father and mother, she didn't know why but she knew that her mother and father don't get along too well with her uncle and aunts. She didn't know why but she knew that it was her father’s fault because while the rest of the family acted skittish around him they had gotten used to him but every once in a while she would catch them staring at her father with hate or worry.

Tyrion, an advisor to her uncle, seemed to know more than he was willing to let on but she knew that if she ever wanted to know what was going on she would have to ask him one day. Though he much like the rest of the party were giddy that after today they would be going back to the west. She did not know how she felt about it nor did her mother; they were both fearful of what would happen when they boarded those ships tomorrow morning. But her father seemed enthused even now Rhaenys stared up at her father.

He looked gallant but torture, his eyes were a pale lilac but there was darkness to his stare, his dazzling silver hair now rippled down his back pulled into an elegant braid. He wore a white doublet that gave him an ethereal beauty to him. Rhaenys often looked at her father with wide proud eyes, Arrax rested just at his back flying as the sunbathed his cream-colored skin with golden light bathed them a cream and gold light.

To her, her father was perfect and could not understand why her family at least her uncle hated him so much. So instead she turned her attention back to her horse as they made their way through the streets.

The heat swirled around her as the bright golden light of the sun blinded her as the horse neighed softly and kept going. She thought that she might have imagined it and the loud cheers of the fighting pit helped to make her forget that she had ever seen them.

Her heart thumped happily as she grinned at the sight as the large black iron bar shining in the light as daddy lowered himself off the horse. Rushing over to Rhaenys, a loving smile pulling at his lips he looked a lot less angry then he did yesterday. Holding his arms upwards to her, she smiled happily as she flung herself from the back of her horse giggling happily as he caught her nuzzling her neck while tickling her sides.

Viserys protected her and the day that she was born Aegon and Enyo agreed never to mention the kind of man that he was because they did not want to steal that light from his daughter's eyes. No matter what he did to them they were not going to ruin that child's life, they knew better than to blame the sins of her father on the young girl. He made sure that Tyrion said nothing, and he could only hope that was how it would stay.

Tears trickled down his daughter's face from laughing so hard as it got harder to catch her breath, laughing happily. The soft baking sands rested beneath their feet.

It did not take them long to get into their box. The smooth state shield roof rusted over as the coolness of the fabrics hit my skin. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan stand at either side of the box while Viserys places Rhaenys in her.

She always thought that it was weird that all her cousins had lion cubs, yet she didn't. Whenever she tried to approach one of the lions, they rushed away from her and they did not hide their hatred for her father. She knew that there was something wrong, but she just wanted to know what it was. Her mother would often tell her that she was a child, and she should only worry about childish things.

“Today we are here to celebrate the opening of the fighting pits and the coming together of all the wardens of the east. Today we celebrate tomorrow the west will fall to the might of the eastern empire.” Daenerys roared loudly in a diplomatic voice.

Meleys sat next to her daughter running her fingers through the smooth silver curls of the young princess who had thick black curly highlights, her dazzling wine color eyes flashed with power and purpose whenever she was on the back of her dragon. There was a warm smile on the young princess' face as the fights began.

They did not know how long those battles had been going on until loud screeches filled the air forcing all their eyes to snap open wide eyes and confused. Rhaenys watched as a man with a bright golden harpy mask ran through the crowd with spears and short swords.

Terror thumped in my chest as panic screeched filled the air, all their eyes widened with doubt as Viserys and Meleys jumped up in terror. Both were not any good in a fight unless they had their dragons, so they had no real way in protecting their daughter.

Aegon ran to his wife's side the three of them pulling out their Valyrian steel weapons in hand, the rippling steal shined in the light, the lions jumped up a whole pride of 20 strong rushed through the stands ripping apart men with ease

Rhaenys did not know what was going on; she watched as dragon fire began to rip apart the stands and blood fell through the stadium like rain. Bloodcurdling screams filled the air as blood erupted like geysers. 100’s of men flushed into the arena with a golden mask on.

Grey Worm and the unsullied rushed to get to the royal family as a man in golden mask yanked on Rhaenys arm in the middle of the chosen pulling her out of the stands. The chaos ensued the family making it impossible to see what was going on.

Rhaenys tried to cry out but her mouth was covered by a blood covered hand, as she was dragged away Rhaenys could only hope that her parents would notice and soon.

Meleys V

Men with hateful looks started to close in around them. Blood riders rushed to their side, whips, arkahs, and bows were pulled out in a rush. The men started to get closer and closer and finally after a monstrous shriek filled the air as a mighty blood-red dragon appeared above the fighting pits. Barrages of flames filled the air as Meleys felt Silverwing coming in closer.

It was utter chaos as she reached out to grab her daughter's hand and only felt the cold hand of dread swallow her whole, when she turned back, she saw nothing but air. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth as tears began to well in her eyes.

“Rhaenys!!” She cried out as panic swallowed up.

Viserys snapped his head up as he heard his daughter's name, when he looked back his daughter was gone, his lilac eyes filled with a fury and venomous hatred that he thought was long gone. Aegon snapped his head back looking at his sister, a darkness fluttering across his state as he spoke in a somewhat cruel voice.

“Don't kill them be peaceful, blah blah blah, are you happy!” Aegon roared with rage.

Rhaego looked around gripping tightly to the dagger that he kept hidden in his boot as Rhae pulled out her own weapon, lions roared with fury as they sliced and hacked trying to keep the golden mask men from their wargs.

“Aegon now is not the time for this!” Dany roared murderous fury.

Golden harpy men were forcing them further and further into the pit as Aegon slashed and hacked parrying blades and doing his best to protect his brood of children. Val, the youngest of his sons, was standing firm on the ground looking at his dragon, an egg he got from the red woman.

A dragon is a smooth venomous green with dazzling purple wings and matching eyes. He had a wingspan of 200 feet much like the other dragons but unlike the rest of the dragon he was on the ground his tail swiping and ripping apart men and women like he was enjoying the fight. The only other dragon that seemed half was blood thirsty was Toxicana. The purple dragon with venues green eyes was on the ground forcing it to shake with a venomous thunder.

“Oh, and what should be the right time when our kids are the next to be stolen, she has stayed in our hands, I'm done listening to talks of peace and mercy. If anything happens to your daughter, it will be on you. Children call your dragons and fly back to the castle. The rest of you stand firm and kill them all.” Aegon roared with fury.

A frantic Meleys don't want to admit it but she thought that the slavers could be reasoned with even after all that they did to their family and her husband and now her child could be lost because of her choices. She chose to be weak to not take part in the martial arts or her abilities as a warg. Now her child was taken. How much longer would she have before they rape or torture her like they did her father.

Her body moved quickly as Silverwing slammed on the ground with a murderous thud the whole world seemed to turn into a flash of movement as she climbed the dragon wings and took off high into the air. Even the roar of the wind fell on deaf ears as she soared above the sky. The city was rushing below her as she darted through the air. She noticed a small group of men hightail it away from the stadium.

She knew that they had to be the men that held her daughter and while she wanted to burn them fear filled her chest she was not sure that her daughter would be fireproof but if she didn't burn them then they would steal her child for good. She sucked in an unsteady breath and spoke the word that might kill her own daughter.

“Dracarys!” Her voice was hesitant but Silverwing let loose flames anyway.

As she darted through the air they hovered over the ground watching as the flames beneath the ground for a stilling moment she saw nothing moving out of the ashes but slowly but surely a little girl free from the ash. Flames flickering in her eyes like something awakened in her and she was not the only one.

All the mercy that had once been held in Meleys heart was shaken away from the thought that her daughter might have died because of it. As she jumped from the back of Silverwing she pulled her daughter tightly to her chest, angry tears spilling from her eyes as a sense of relief washed over her. Glad to have her daughter back and even more glad that the man that had taken her child was dead.

She pulled her close to her as Rhaenys wailed that she was so scared, Meleys knew that they would burn down every inch of this city if it meant killing every harpy. She would not let her children be in danger any longer. A fire awoken in her a murderous fury that now was unleashed from a cage and would never be put back in its cage. Any threat to her daughter would end in their death she would make sure of it.

Aegon was right, sometimes strength is better than mercy. She would burn them all down to the ground and so would the people in the west, the man that hated their family for sport would be the first to die.

“Mel, Rhaenys!!” Viserys roared with power.

Both girls looked up to see Viserys and Rhaegar rushing towards them both men were covered in blood and as the stench of sulfur filled the air as they rushed over to them. Viserys jumped from the dragon pulling them into a tight hug as Rhaegar spoke in a smooth voice.

“The harpies are dead, and the remnants of their cell is being burned by Aegon and Enyo while Daenerys leads the wardens back to the palace we are almost done here. It won't get any easier Meleys, maybe you guys should stay here.” Rhaegar spoke to his daughter gently.

Meleys get only fury not just for the people that tried to take her daughter but by her father who thought that she was too weak to handle this. She pushed her husband away and spoke in a murderous fury.

“I'm going west, and I will take out any threat to my family's safety. Some people might deserve mercy, but it is not the Baratheons or even any Stark that sides with Robert. I will fight and I will win.” Conviction and fury filled Meleys chest to the west they went, and she would win this battle never again will I think they had any right to her daughter or her family.


	45. The Targaryens Issue A Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter bit of a chapter but just a little tease

Sansa I

Things in the capitol had been tense and Sansa was worried if they should even be doing this at all, in the past four years things have been silent. The Blackfyres rushed back to Dorne building their forces and stealing resources from the Reach. The crops were lush but were now thinning with winter coming they needed every store of food that they had. 

Taking a deep breath, she did her best to steady her nerves as she looked at her little brother who was growing taller and more lean and powerful with each passing moment. Bran went from being a sweet nine-year-old boy to a strong-willed 17-year-old boy. His bright blue eyes were locked on Sansa as he looped his arm with her.

Off in the distance, she could see her eldest brother Robb 22 with a six-year-old child who shared a birthday with her own child. A little girl with long flowing red hair and dazzling blue eyes is the spitting image of their mother. But she had the great slender beauty of her own mother. She was bubbly and warm like her mother but could have the serious air of her father. They named the sweet girl after their deceased aunt Lyanna.

Lyanna had sparkling eyes locked on her younger cousin who she shared a birthday with the prince and one of the future kings of the seven kingdoms. Out of respect for the king, Sansa much to the dismay of her husband named the boy Robert after the once might king. The large fat king doted on his first grandson. Teach him about the matters of war at the age of four.

Sansa thought that she was going to have a rebel with that but instead it enthused her that her son would not be like her father. He acted kindly towards her. But he could not fight the day of the battle of blackwater he hid away like a coward and Gendry made it known. For his bravery and determination, he was naturalized but he would not be made king if Robert did that then the Lannisters would have a fit.

Instead, he was married off to Arya and would be given Storm's End, though the men around the castle treated him like he walked on water. He was the brave warrior of blackwater while her husband was the coward she almost wished that he was a true-born child or else she would have married that boy instead of the one that she was married to now.

Her son had curly blonde hair and her bright blue eyes, he was nimble and had his father’s build; he was not muscular and broad-chested like Gendry and Robert. Even Arya’s own son at the age of 5 around the same age as Robb's daughter. Arya might have been a mother but much like Robert the king she was teaching her child how to fight.

The moment that their son was born Sansa thought that Arya might change but she was the same as she had always been 19 and wild. She rode her horse hard and fast and could often be found training with Gendry and their son Edderic. Even now the capital was swarming with children, the loud clashing of steel could be heard, and Sansa knew that it was her good brother and her sister fighting once more. Robert and Edderic were rushing around the city the name day of Robert and Lyanna would begin shortly and Sansa could not help the feeling of foreboding that filled the air.

“Everything will be fine, why are you frowning so many sisters.” Bran’s voice was deep and resonated in his chest.

Sansa was forced to jump from her thoughts as she looked over to her brother. There was a warm and inviting smile on her face as she and her brother were directed to the massive pavilion that would hold the young children's party. The bright blue sky was lit with bright white clouds. Sansa stared up at the clouds with a great sense of ease.

“I'm sure that you are right, after all, that could possibly happen,” Sansa spoke so carefree air began to swirl around her.

“Exactly even if the Blackfyres do attack they still have to get past the walls,” Bran spoke in a smooth voice.

Together the two siblings were sitting at the high dais as the party was soon to begin.

* * *

Ned V

The party was in full swing all the seven kingdoms were here but the Dornish men, there was a warmth and commodity that filled the air. Arya was laughing and joking with her husband. Ned was worried that she was not going to be happy with her match but to his surprise, she not only loved this man she was loyal to him and he to her. It was the greatest thing that worried Ned.

He feared that Robert’s lack of loyalty was genetic with Gendry who could have been his spitting image, but then if you look at Joffrey. He is nothing like his father and does not look like his father. It made Ned worried that he might not even be the child of the stag king hence why Ned had his younger daughter marry Gendry just in case a truth came out.

“You look like you are trying to chew on a rock thinking about something,” Robert spoke in a joking voice.

The warmth in his voice forced Ned to snap up as he gave him a sly smile and looked out at the 100’s of people.

“Just thinking that I never thought that we would ever share a grandchild, to think if Lyanna was here things would have been so different…” Ned might have spoken further, but the wind began to rise.

There was a thunderous roar that shook the earth and forced the harps and lyres to come to an end, thunder boomed against the sky but there was not a single ounce of black clouds in the sky. Robert and Ned were forced to look up at the sky. A flash of heat and the scent of sulfur filled the air as the clouds began to part.

Ned and Roberts were hanging open as the men looked up at the sky to see a dragon the color of blood, thick and rippling with scaled muscle with a 400 feet wide wingspan. Ruby red eyes were locked on the ships that were resting in the bay. The scent of wood filled the air as the decks busted apart as crimson flames bathed the ships. A long coiling neck 50 feet long was whirling back and forth as a boy rested on the back.

Ned could not leave what he was seeing. There was no way that dragons were real; they were all thought to be dead but the boy on the back of the crimson dragon gripping to the spikes looked to be a Targaryen and not the Blackfyre. He had shimmering white hair and bright indigo eyes the same color as Rhaegar.

He had a lean and lithe body with a blade on his back that looked like the blade of the Targaryen household. Robert had a bright red face ready to yell at the men to get ready when two more dragons descended from the sky. One a pure purple the color of dazzling purple flames burst apart the gates as a young girl with silver and white curl rippled down her back dressed in a lightweight arm was smiling.

She had the smooth smoke gray eyes of the stars and it took away the breath of Ned. She had a hint of Lyanna in her face, but he knew that should not be possible. His jaw was hanging as he noticed a third dragon's descent from the sky. A black as the night with crimson wings and smoldering red eyes that were filled with fury. A mixture of black and red flames came bursting to life as it bathed the wall and all who rested on it.

“Dragons! Dragons!” Joffrey spoke in a shrill voice though it was more like screaming.

Waves of heat rippled over everyone as terror broke out. All of them looked like they wanted to run away from the pavilion but it was the only place that the flames were not reaching so they were forced to watch as the dragons ripped apart their defenses. If things could not get any worse a fourth dragon declined from the sky but there were no flames.

The dazzling jade dragon with brilliant bronze highlights, this dragon was leaner and faster than the burlier dragons. This dragon had the same length of wingspan but there were two people on the back of the dragon. Both of which people could not believe the dragon was hovering over the ground close enough for two people to jump off the dragon back.

The soldiers rushed to their king and Queen's side. Cereal had wide eyes looking at the two people land. Ned was just as confused; the first person was a man with thick silver locks and cunning indigo eyes in his hand as a Valyrian blade but not one that they had ever seen before.

The dragon's roar at their back as he flew in a circle ready it burned them all if something foolish happened. The man was clearly Rhaegar; he even had on Valyrian steel armor painted black with a red dragon on the center of the breast place.

The more shocking thing had to be the woman that rested before them, a woman with thick brown curls rippling down her back dressed in tight black leather riding pants and a sleeveless shirt, she had a wild beauty to her face and bright dazzling gray eyes. The gray eyes of a stark.

She took a step forward and silt bronze eyes were locked on the men like if you tried a thing, I would burn you. While Lyanna was looking over her brother she had a sneer on her face. Her chin jutted out its utter defiance as her eyes scanned over Jamie her eyes were filled with hatred as she spoke in a booming voice.

“I'm sure that some of you know me and some of you don't let me introduce myself. My name used to be Lyanna Stark, now Lyanna Targaryen. I was never kidnapped. I am willing to leave Robert a womanizer and a liar. I would not be with someone that did not love me, so I left with Rhaegar and this pig-headed fool started a war. Arthur pulled Rhaegar forcibly from the battlefield and snuck us off to the east. This battle is hopeless. We have the whole eastern world at our back and 19 dragons with six of them large enough for battle. To all the kingdoms that rested before you I give you a choice: stand behind my son and his wives and live or stand with Robert and die.” Lyanna spoke but Ned could not understand.

Ser Barristan was right she was alive, but how could she be with a man whose family killed her father, Robert was bright red in the face, his eyes wide. Hatred filled him as he looked at a smug-looking Rhaegar who was still in shape while Robert was fat and grown weak in his years.

“The Blackfyres will fall and so will the Baratheons,” Rhaegar spoke only once before his massive dragon was carted off with the two Targaryens.

Flames dance higher and higher into the sky and suddenly a wave of understanding runs over all the most powerful members of the seven kingdoms that know that the house of dragons is way back.


	46. Battle For Dragstone

Doran I

The capital was in utter disarray, there were rumors all over the seven kingdoms but the most obvious one was that there were dragons stalking the sky’s once more. Doran thought that it was nothing more than a rumor. But the capital seemed to be taking it as a proven fact. Doran on the other hand did not care he was worried about his son. He had yet to hear anything from him for four years and he thought he was dead.

Doran knew that if his son were dead then the Targaryens had something to do with it, if Doran could pace then he would be. But he was pain ridden in his chair as he wished more than anything that he could go rushing after his son. Instead he sat in the great hall with Oberyn and his daughter Arianne. Her stunning beauty bitched all men including the young Blackfyre who spent every day asking for her hand.

Each day she told him no and finally today he went off to join the others in the looting and sacking of the teacher. It would have been easier to take over the rich land with all the eyes on the capital for the name day of the princess and the young lady of the North. Doran moved his lips to speak about sending more men after his son when a thunderous roar shook the ground.

All of their heads snapped up as thunderous claps echoed in the air but they knew that there was no way that there was a storm on the horizon so it must have been something else causing the strange nose. All of them rushed out of the great hall to see the bright blue sky. The dazzling white clouds were nothing but whisps now. Replaced instead with a sight more dazzling then the white fluffy clouds that had once littered the sky.

A dragon of dazzling cream with accents of gold and molten golden eyes flew through the sky, Doran’s jaw dropped as he noticed the molten golden eyes locked on him. His long coiling neck could snap down and rip him off the ground at any moment. Instead the long coiling neck reveal a boy with silver hair and pale lilac eyes.

In that moment Doran knew who this was boy was, Viserys Targaryen e had heard that he was sold into slavery after he went after his own family members. The dragon had a wingspan of 400 feet, but it was lean as if it were made for speed does not battle. Though it was not the only dragon that flew over the city ready to burn the ground before them.

Doran was no fool; he knew that his family never bent the knee because Aegon, first of his name, wanted to hold Dorne. The same could not be said for these Targaryens if they wanted them dead then they would be dead. The second dragon was a pure silver with sterling silver eyes and that same lean body and 400 feet wings.

Though the girl on the back looked starker and Targaryen in the opinion of Doran, a girl with thick brown curls and bright violet eyes were locked on Doran. A murderous aura swirled around her as she looked over them all. Her lips were pulled into a grim line as her dragon slammed to the ground with a murderous thug. A high-pitched screech filled the air as the silver dragons' massive maw snapped open glittering black teeth ripping through the air as the long coiling neck darted out snapping at the air around Doran.

The scent of sulfur filled his nose as he blanched from the rotten stench, his breath hitched as Arianne let out a surprised squeak looking over the massive dragon. The girl had an ethereal beauty that let them know her likeness to Lyanna; she was a Targaryen. Her violet eyes dark and murderous as she loomed over all of them.

“My name is Meleys Targaryen my father Rhaegar Targaryen invites you all to Dragonstone to speak terms of peace he has something that you might want. A certain prince. Hear him out and get your son back or don't and all of Dorne will burn.” Meleys jutted her chin out.

Nodding her head to her dragon, they were all hopeless as they watched the dazzling silver flames of the young dragon bursting forth burning the wall as the beast took to the sky. Wind whipped at their face forces their eyes to sprint a s the thick crunch of sand fills their mouths.

But it confused Doran how the hell could they be doing at Dragonstone. It was fortified and taken over by the Baratheon. The Martells themselves tried to take the island but there was no point. Then again, they did not have dragons but the Targaryens did. The sacking of Dragonstone had to be one hell of a sight.

Third Person

Dragonstone was looming in the distance, there were fishermen hiding in the shadow of Dragonstone fear filling their eyes, but not for the dragons by the battle to come. Ships were looming in the bay catapults and scorpions lined the shore and the ships ready to take down any opponent that came closest to the island.

There were starling black chains that rattle as they began to turn the wheels ready to launch the scorpion, but the people of the island did not know that the scorpion would once more be fired at dragons.

Rhaegar, Aegon, Daenerys, and Enyo were flying through the vast blanket of clouds, Lyanna laughing as she thought back to the dumb struck face of Robert. Aegon had his own smile on his face, after hearing the stories of his homeland he was finally able to come home. His vast legion of soldiers was rushing through the bay.

Their own men ready to attack, they didn't need catapults not when they had six dragons at their back though at the moment Meleys and Viserys were making their way back to the island but it would take longer. By the time that they got back the battle would be over.

The young prince and princess dragons were hiding even higher in the air they were not allowed to participate in the battle. The largest of the dragons Oceanus a brilliant blue was speaking in the sights of Dragonstone. While the baby dragons that had just recently hatched were resting on the ship the latest of Silverwings clutches hatched on the way here no less.

The others dived through the sky; the starling blue water greeted me like the ships spread out from the beach to the ports. A rapid burst of fire came rushing out of their mouths bathing the ships in flames of red, green, black, and purple swirled together.

The cracking of the mast, and the screaming of dying men was commonplace to the Targaryen family, by this point. The ships were swallowed by the flames. Grey worm roared out orders as the ships were ready to dock. A murderous fury filled his blank eyes. He did not know this foreign land, but he knew that it caused a great amount of suffering to the people that freed him, and he would not let this stand. The men that stood firmly on the beach wearing stone-cold masks and ready to kill them at a moment's notice.

Aegon shifted his gaze over the island taking even every detail of the island that he could, he could see Stone Drum, a massive tower that serves as the central keep of Dragonstone. It is named for the booming and rumbling sounds that can be heard during storms. Aegon acted as if they would be his last time seeing this island.

Aegon turned his attention back to the island, he noticed how much Dragon architecture can be found throughout the castle, such as small dragons framing gates and dragon claws holding torches. A pair of great wings cover the armory and smithy, and dragon tails form archways and staircases.

The citadel of Dragonstone is wrought all the black stone doors can be set in the mouths of stone dragons. All of it was breathtaking but Aegon knew that first he would have to kill the enemies on the island before he could genuinely enjoy it.

Taking in one last longing breath Aegon spoke, “I'm going to take out the men on the eastern part of the island, Let's take back our family home” Aegon's voice tone cold and murderous he took off . The wind roared in his ears as power and purpose flooded his body he was ready to take back his home one land at a time the moment that the rest of the crownlands heard that the dragons were back they would come on their knees begging to be forgiven for siding with stag trash

The warmth of Ares sizzled against his skin as he grew hotter with hate as they both locked on the sight of a vast land mass of men slowly making their way to bay since they did not have enough horses to carry them. Bloody lust washed over Aegon these were the people that had been sending assassin to his home since he was a child and he was ready to get payback Burning those ships in the bay of the capital was not nearly enough 

"Dracarys!" A murderous sneer pulled at Aegon’s lips as a smug smile pulled at his face.

An inferno of Dragon fire burst forth dazzling red flames bathed the men before them, Aegon could feel the waves of heat rippling over me as Ares body began to heat up from my touch. Reigning flames down on the men before him, the scent of burning flesh has become commonplace to Aegon after slaughtering men in the east.

The soft gurgle of rushing water filled his ears as Aegon got closer to the ground, the wind bit at his skin while tossing his curls wildly as they slapped across his face. The roars of dragons filled his ears as the ground came closer and closer.

Panic shouts filled the air as men rushed to their position, the terror fresh in their eyes as a manic shrill voice filled the air carrying easily along with the wind.

Aegon’s jaw locked into a resolved grim line as he felt her heart pulsing and his blood rushing as his rage began to simmer just beneath my skin. My mind began to ramp up as he spoke in a cold commanding tone, one that echoed off the panicked air.

“Dracarys” Aegon spoke once more as he watched crimson flames force the green grass to begin to split and curl as thick black crumpling strands turned to ash.

Aegon could feel the heat in Ares pooling in his throat and chest, like water building behind a dam. Banking left Aegon avoided the arrows that came rushing out. wings cracked with power as a new sense of purpose bubbled in his chest.

The scent of burning mud and bricks forced him to look back to the wall, shit, and death pungent and sharp attacked Aegon’s senses as he gripped tighter to Ares spikes. Thick black smoke swirled around his eyes as his tails whipped at the scorpion, reducing them to splitters as his spiked tail sliced as early through the flesh of the young boys that were maning the scorpions. The soft rattle of chains filled his ears as they went slamming on the ground reducing those that rested below the chain to blood puddles.

Earth-shattering roars filled the air as bright shimmering red flames and murderous crimson sliced through the air. Thich heavy flames swallowed the tower and the castle and heavy black smoke shocked out the sky only the flames lit up the battlefield. Animosity brimmed within me, stoking and bubbling in his chest like the flames of Old Valyria.

Aegon looked down to the ground where wide verdant hills stared back at Aegon as the sight of them forced hate to fill Aegon’s chest. Three thousand something men all with spears in their hand and a murderous frenzy on their face.

Churning smoke raced in the air as flames danced against the ground and licked their skin until it turned black as night and the scent of puss bubbling up and out of their blackening skin filled my nose. The scent of burning mud filled his nose as he jumped down from Ares’ back.

He launched from his back without fear rolling over to his right knee as he thrust his right hand out slicing through the approaching men. A power rushed over him as he watched 100’s of men rushing towards him, a bright dazzling red flames bathed both Aegon and the men. He darted forward slicing apart all that were standing in his way. They burst apart like sacks of flea’s hand blood. 

All the while there were battles taking place all over the island, Rhaegar darted toward the beach with Lyanna clinging to his back. Her arms began to lose as her hands went to her back where the bow and arrow was resting. A fiery rage filled her smoke gray eyes as the string of the bow felt like heaven along her calloused fingertips.

Eragon roared with power and fury as he steadies them slowing down his pace but hovering over the ground as they flew over the verdant valley. Lyanna’s eyes were fired as she let out one arrow after the other. The soft white and pop filling her ears as not a single shot went missing. A hunger filled her chest, and she would get justice for all the pain that her family was put in.

Her eyes scanned the whole field as if she could see everything, a talent that every good archer needs to keep from dying. Her eyes scanned over massive crossbows resting in the green valley.

“My love, be careful there are scorpions and just because you were able to avoid the scorpions on the fleet doesn't mean that you can avoid all of the scorpions of the land.” Lyanna spoke smoothly.

Gently they moved through the sky shooting volley after volley of arrows, rushing forth as dazzling green and bronze flames bathed the ground and the men that rested in the valley. They felt fury and venom bubbling in the back of Rhaegar’s throat. Flames begin to build in Eragon’s chest, forcing Eragon’s skin to sizzle with renewed power and fury.

"Dracarys!" Rhaegar roared.

They watched the raging inferno of flames bursting forth scorching the ground. The ground began to bubble as the once bright green grass turned black as night. The wails of pain filled their ears.

The roar of wind filled my ears as they looked over to the ground to see a long line of scorpions all of them rushing at them. Pulling back hard on the spiky Hair rose higher into the air as Lyanna threw her bow in her quiver dropping an arrow as she did so. Gripping tightly to Rhaegar’s side. 

Eragon darted through the air once more, only this time he whipped his head back a barrage of flaming hot balls and rushed forward, breaking apart the line of scorpions. The sounds of anguish and pain filled their ears as the scent of burning flesh and hair filled their nose, black smoke billowed into the sky blocking out the bright blue sky.

Lyanna and Rhaegar could hear me screaming begging for water, their voices shrill and panic but the king and queen could not bring myself to feel pity for them. Rhaegar simply roared loudly over their crying and begging. He slammed onto the ground, the scorpion's splinter under the power of his massive hind legs.

His tail ripped through the tender flesh of people as bright bronze and green slammed into the nearby supposed corpses as horses tried to flee with fire names creeping down their necks. Rhaegar’s massive black teeth night slammed into the bodies of the young men. As Eragon and the couple mowed down the men on the valley, Enyo and Daenerys were mowing down the men on the beach with the unsullied.

Men were slamming into the shield of the men on the beach but Greyworm was no phased he thrusted his blade and spear into anyone that got in the way. The sand was shifting beneath their feet as the cool waves lapped at the back of their feet, they were making their way along the beach with ease.

Greyworm could hear the screech of a dragon forcing Grey Worm to snap his head up to the sky where two dragons of black and poisonous purple darted forth. Burning the men and forcing them to burst apart. There was a dangerous gleam in their eyes as the women on their back had eyes alive with fire.

Taking in a long heavy breath Grey wormed darted forward with the ground turned black as dragon fire bathed the sand all Grey Worm's doubt faded away and rage replaced it. Time to end this.

Frog Prince III

The metallic scent of blood and the putrid scent of shit filled the young prince's nose as he was forced from the hull of the ship. They had heard thunderous booms and the sound of dragons’ roar. Taking in a heavy breath the scent of smoke and sulfur began to fill the nose of the prince and he and his friends forced their way to the surface. What they saw startled them, there were limp body’s missing arms and legs floating in the water.

The once bright blue water was now dyed red, ships were sinking to their watery graves, the soft grains of mast cracking and collapsing in the water filled the air. The frog prince looked on with terror as he was forced up the hill into a throne room bright by golden light.

But the sight in the throne room was chilling, Aegon sat in a slat rock throne covered in blood, a sword resting in his lap as he slowly began to clean it off. While Enyo hung on the throne a sly and murderous smile pulled at her lips as she hung on the back of the throne While Daenerys sat in the dragon throne a dangerous look filling her eyes as she looked over at young prince

“I'm sure by now news is spreading throughout the kingdoms. No to mention the visitors we sent to Dorne, if your father is as wise as he claims then he will be here hoping to get you back if not. Well….” She shrugged her shoulders.

Aegon licked his lips trying to get the blood off them but to the young Dornish prince a shudder rushed down his spine to him it was a dragon licking his chops. It is dangerous to begin around the Targaryens for this long, but the young prince was sure of one thing: if his family does not bend the knee they will die.


	47. Come To Dragonstone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I have been super busy and I have had family house guests but here it is and even as I am posting this I am working on a chapter that will hopefully be out tomorrow.

Third Person

There was confusion rippling over the kingdom like a suffocating wave drowning all that it touched the people of the seven kingdoms were in panic if it were not for the fact that the king extended power then there would be a chance that even that would not keep them together long. Even though the island of Dragonstone was a few nautical miles away they could hear the thunderous booms and the flashes of wave heat rippled over the kingdom.

Even now the whole capital was in a flurry, peasants were running from the city escaping their mundane jobs and the jaws of defeat and death that seemed to be hiding around every corner. They were fleeing the city and they knew that the moment that the dragons decided to take this fight seriously the city and all the people in the city would be nothing but ash.

Ned looked around the chamber room even now there was a burst of manic yelling that he could not understand. His mind was too busy on the image at the name day celebration. The look of utter hatred in his sister's eyes, the murderous fury filled her body as disgust fluttered across her usually soft features. He never once thought that what his brother and Ser Barristan said might be true and yet there she stood before them with a massive jade dragon ready to burn them all if they did something that he did not like.

Ned took in a deep breath leaning against the smooth white wall. The heat of the sun was cold, nothing compared to the waves of heat that slammed against his back when the dragons were here. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice the man was sitting behind him unnoticed by the raging wardens.

There was a rough feeling in his hands, and he noticed the texture meant that there was a parchment that rested in his hand. He knew that it must have been a message only for his eyes or else the messenger would not have slipped in and out of the room hoping to be unseen. Not that he or she would have been noticed to begin with. Robert's roars of fury shook the room and forced all to look at him.

Gendry, the eldest son of the king, was resting in his chair, his arms folded firmly over his chest as he looked to his father with a bored look in his eyes. He did not care that the Targaryens were back or that his father hated them. He knew what his father did to the Targaryen family and now after seeing Lyanna there was no way that he could willingly defend his father’s rage or actions. He was wrong to start the war instead of listening but that did not mean that he was going to side with the Targaryens though Gendry was no fool he knew that there was no way that they were going to win unless they did something drastic.

Robert on the other hand was not thinking logically as he screamed a curse to kill all the Targaryens; his warm hammer gripped tightly to the metallic shaft as he swung it back and forth with a murderous fury. His cobalt blue eyes were as dark as the ocean waters, the fury in his face forced his skin to turn a bright red. His thick black hair seemed to glow like luster like it was ready to be washed in the blood of the enemy.

Tywin did not say a thing he was mute as he stared with confusion in his heart did this mean that his son and his men were dead. While Tyrion dying was what he wanted he wanted it at his hands not the Targaryens. He did not want anyone thinking that they could come at the Lannister and live. The golden fleck in his eyes that was glimmering with venomous hatred. But his face was a cold expressionless mask. His eyes shifted to his children Cersei and Jamie not once did they think that dragons would ever fly in the air again if they did then they would not have betrayed the Targaryens so long ago.

A new kind of feeling filled Tywin; it was not something that he was not used to, but he knew the emotion all the same. A cold sinking pit filled his stomach as bile filled his mouth. Jealousy wormed its way into his heart and mind. He wanted those dragons for his own family, but he was not fool enough to think that he would be able to ride them. But taking one of those Targaryen women to bare them Lannister with dragon blood means that they would ride them in the future.

His mind was already working while the Tyrells looked bitter; they were not screaming in rage like the other lords; instead, there was this dark bitter resent filling them. If they had only waited a few years, they could have married Margery off to one of the Targaryen men they could have had dragons in their bloodline. Instead, they married into the Stark line who hunted down their own kin. They all knew that this war would shake the foundations of the world and all that lived in it.

“Summon the fire mages they must start creating more wildfire, we aren’t just fighting the Targaryens but the Blackfyre as well. Send word to the North Lord Stark that their forces should be marshal and moving south. The first thing that Lyanna will do is try to marshal the other house of the North against us; we must be ready. I will gather my men in the west. I suggest you do the same shore up defense. There will be blood shed the likes that we have not seen since the conquest of the kingdoms.” Tywin spoke firm and coldly.

The other nodded their head heavily as even Robert calmed down; he took in a long breath and spoke in a booming voice that oozed power.

“Gendry, you and Arya will head to the Stormlands and muster our men; they will attack first to undermine the power of the Stormlands. Lady Arryn, your husband, fought against the Targaryens and betrayed them. They will come to the tower as well and head home and get your men ready.” Robert spoke in a decisive voice forcing his rage aside.

Ned nodded his head numbly as he started to make his way out of the room when someone asked where he was going, he claimed that he was going to marshal his force but, there was a piece of paper burning a hole in his hand. As he walked down the hall, he casually threw glasses over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching him. Only when he was safe and succeeded in his own solar did he look at his open palm where a scroll rested. The brown parchment stared back at him.

His mind was reeling, he did not know how much more that he could take, his mind was rushing with all that had happened in the past couple days and he was not sure if he even wanted to know what this letter had said. But a cold resolve settled deep in his stomach as a cold icy hand of tradition gave his heart a squeeze and forced him to open the scroll.

When he looked down to the black cursive spilled out on the paper and Ned knew the handwriting the moment that he saw it. He nearly thought that he would see this handwriting ever again but he also did not think that he would see his sister ever again and yet there she stood not even a few days ago.

_ “Brother against all the wishes of my family I am hoping that you will come to the blackwater cliffs hidden in the coves by the beach. I will be there hopefully you will be there too _ .” Lyanna’s words drifted off the page taunting her eldest brother.

Ned sighed heavily as he crumpled and threw it into the fire before stalking out of the room, there was a hunger in his stare and a burning need to talk to his sister. His long and steady strides force him to move in a swift manner, one that got the attention of one young lord, his own son Robb.

Robb’s blue eyes were clouded over with thought as he leaned against the wall, his arms folded firmly over his chest as his mind and eyes were locked on the ground. The thought that his aunt was alive and well was one thing to think that this whole time he had cousins that he did not know about and family members that were being hunted by people that they knew well. That for all purpose were his men in a sense the thought disgusted and confused him all at the same time.

He thought that Grey Wind was an amazing symbol of his house, something that the others could never have and now he was faced with the overwhelming power of dragons. Even now the ones still showed signs of blood and flames flickering against the surface and deep in the watery depths. There was no way that they could win. He helped to hunt down his own family. When his uncle left, Robb hunted him down and tried to kill him and his cousin and now here they were with a larger army and better fighting power.

He looked up from his scattered thoughts to see that his father was rushing out of the room as if it were on fire. The sight of him filled with purpose as if he were about to do something important, Robb knew his father well and he knew that if he were walking like that then he had something important to do but what could that be. Curiosity spikes in the chest and the mind of the young lord as he begins to stalk down the hallway.

For a while he followed his father loosely watching his stiff shoulders beginning to quake with excitement or could it have been worried. Robb was not sure, but he knew that something important might happen and he did not want to miss it. While he was worried about the battle he was also excited with the sight of dragons.

As he stalked out the castle hall he was standing before a massive black cliff that loomed over the rushing black water. The bright blue sky loomed overhead as Robb crept silently through the hills watch as his father was creeping along the smooth white sands as black water crashed against the shore there were pieces of burnt driftwood rippling along the shore. There were chips of black wood resting on the ground he crept silently, but his eyes were drifting to the clouds.

There was a blinding green streaking that moved too fast for him to see but there was a whipping wind and the scent of rotten eggs flooding Robb’s nose as he looked around to see that there hovering over the ground was that same jade dragon with brown highlights. A sly smile pulled at Robb's lips; he never thought that he was going to be able to see a live dragon. He could feel the heat pulsing off the dragon as he noticed the woman that was standing on the dragon's back.

She was standing firmly on the back of the jade arms with a bronze shimmering skin, there was a hunger in her eyes as she looked down to her elder brother. Her smooth brown curls were rippling down her back there was a bow and arrow on her back and a haunted look on her face like she had been going to war this whole time.

There was blood on the bottom part of her right check her porcelain skin glimmering with a light layer of sweat. Robb stared at his aunt with bewilderment she had one hand on the neck of the young dragon. Bronze eyes were locked on Ned as his wings slowly lowered the young woman to the ground; she had a dazzling beauty to her and the look of the North. Robb found himself holding his breath not because of the pressure that exuded from the dragon but the beauty of the women that his daughter was named after.

There was a murderous rage filled the eyes of the men behind her dragon’s neck she acted as if she was a Targaryen and the dragons sure treated her as such. 

“Brother” There was a warmth to her voice that did not reach her eyes.

There was a darkness that filled her stare as she stepped out of the dragon's wingspan and rested on the ever-shifting sand. Power bloomed over her soft white skin as she looked over to her brother. The warmth in her heart was not signed by the mere sight of her brother. She knew that there was going to be a lot more than simply seeing him to fix all that happen between the two of them. But she knew that she did not want to have to kill all the starks that are not allied with them.

Her eyes were gentle as she thought back to her son that was furious with her, he kept saying the same thing that they hunted them down for years his whole life and yet she was fool enough to think that they could be trusted. Lyanna sighed at the thought of her son as she looked back to her husband there was power and warmth in her eyes that screamed leave us be.

It was the last thing that Rhaegar wanted but he left all the same his own mind clouded over with his own worries the Dornish men would be rushing to the island even now after all how could they resist when their eldest son was in their dungeons. Rhaegar climbed higher into the air as he looked out past the vast blue ocean thinking about the capital and the bodies of his wife and children that were resting in the sept. He sighed heavily as he looked down to his own wife that was trying to save her brother from a similar fate.

After all, if he did not bow, he would be killed, his children might be able to live if they did not do anything foolish, but his wife was a strong-willed woman like Lyanna and Rhaegar knew that there was no way that she would bow before them. Seeing as how it was Rhaegar's father the mad king that killed the man that he loved.

Ned must have been thinking the same thing as he gave his sister a sour expression on his face as he overlooked every inch of his sister's body.

“Sister, to think that you were alive this whole time was not something that I could believe easily. I believe only what I see. To think that you were alive this whole time and I and Robert were hunting you and your children.” There was great sorrow in Ned's voice.

His gray eyes started to turn soft and gentle as this guilt-ridden expression formed on his face, as Robb watched form the shadows. His eyes soaking in the sight of his aunt, but he wanted nothing more than to see those dragons up close and personal. There was a hunger in his mind he wanted to see it a thousand times more and even still the sight would never get old.

“Yes, I know that it is hard to believe but when a trusted ally and friend told you that I was alive in well you instead of considering it sent assassins to my house. To my children, they are scared and that will never change. Aegon has physical scars and Enyo….” She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders collapsing and her chest caving in.

There was pain white hot and fresh filling her face as her blood boiled with rage at the thought that her brother was hunting down his own kin. If she killed Ned the North would never bow, they would see her and her family as kin killers and they bowed to the dragon but that was before they killed her father and brother. She knew that she had to navigate this carefully or things would fall apart.

Robb watched with silence as a hunger in his eyes his father’s shoulders were so stiff that he looked like a statue. His thick brown hair had even more grays in it than before he had seen his sister, where his father was rigid his aunt was filled with pain and darkness as her eyes turned the color of stone. Though unlike his father that gave off the impression that he was weary his aunt looked strong and powerful.

“My daughter was almost raped by Robert’s consuming, my son nearly lost his arms, they have no mercy for the Starks, they want you and your wife dead. They will let your children live but they will be disheartened from Winterfell and given to Benjen and his children. I love Benny but that is not something that I want to happen. There is no sin committed by your children. Robb should be lord of Winterfell if he sides with us if you side with us. We could take the North by force, but it would do nothing to help our cause. They would always have the thought in the back of their head that we killed our own family. We know of everything that has been going on here. Ghost the wolf that you thought was bonded to you is in fact the bobbed partner of Aegon. He is a strong and gifted warg and not one to be taken lightly. Come to the island and speak with him. Dorne will be there as well there is nothing untoward going on. See for yourself and secure your children's future.” Lyanna spoke gently.

But there was a fire filling her state as she shifted her stare to Robb who thought he was hiding well but it was like she knew exactly where he was.

“At the very least let Robb decide if he wants to lose his family and his family home all because his father is loyal to a fool” She cocked her eyebrow upwards.

Robb let out a sheepish laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck as he stalked from the shadows of the cliff coming out into the blinding sunlight. As he looked at his aunt, he could tell that she was from the north. She had this power around her but a gentle feature that he often saw in his sister Arya’s face who went to the storm's end.

“Lady Lyanna, it is an honor to meet you. I have heard so much about you.” Robb spoke warmly.

There was a dangerous charge in the air as he looked over to his father who had a heavy frown on his face. The great lord stark was not pleased with this turn of events of the brazen actions of his nephew and the fact that his son was eavesdropping did not help the rage that was starting to well on his blank and expressionless mask.

Ned’s lips curled like he wanted to sneer but formed a tight lip smile at the least, he did not want his family to die and he knew that there was no way that they were going to win this war.

“Fine we will be there.” Ned spoke softly.

He wished that he could say that he did not know about the marriage between the two people, but he found that journal that he had been looking for so desperately and it showed that she was indeed married to Rhaegar, but he did not want to believe it and now his family might pay the price.

Lyanna looked up to the sky as if beckoning her dragon to come and pick her up and as the sand grains began to shake with power as winds wild and free like the dragon began to stir, she spoke once more. Gentle and strong.

“There is going to be a ship docked here ready to take you to Dragonstone tomorrow at Dawn. Tell Robert whatever you may like but there is one thing that you should know something that the whole realm will come to know in the coming days….” Her voice turned cold and ominous.

There was a twisted if not amused smile on her face as a jade streak began to cross the sky once more, “Stannis before we took his head, he said something interesting in the hopes of buying the lives of his wife and daughter. Gendry is the only trueborn son of Robert, Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella are all bastards of Jamie and Cersei Lannister. Your daughter is no queen, and her last name isn’t Lannister, it's Hill.”

With those taunting words she was while away on dragon back a sly smile on her face as she watched her brother's mind begin to wheel. While she still loved him at least a small part of her did. That did not mean that she trusted him or was happy with him and all that he had done.


	48. Let's Begin

Third Person

There were glittering black wings flying across the realm each one of them moving to an intended target, there was a warm smile on the faces of the Targaryens as they thought about the message that the wings were carrying the first went to the reach where Lord Mace was having a hard time shoring up their defense. The trumpeting of elephants and the roar of war drums were filling the air. The once bright golden sun was borne down on the rich men.

They were resting outside the gate their breaching weapons were at the ready standing at the gate was the young Blackfyre who above the mantle of Aegon Targaryen the moment that the true Targaryens came to the west. Now they took the name Maegor Blackfyre, the name that was given to him by his father and mother. He even now was fighting the urge to run back to the capital in the hopes of stealing a dragon of the island.

It seemed like the moment that the dragons set foot on the island all the she-dragons began to lay clutches of eggs. Toxicana the fierce she-dragon had laid a few clutches of her own. The Targaryen power of dragons went from 6 battle-ready dragons and a few baby dragons until 20 baby dragons and 6 battle dragons and 9 dragons that could be used in battle if not for the fact that they were the mounts of the young princes and princesses.

They were growing in power and would be growing more and more dangerous; they were ripe for the picking and Maegor was ready to rush back to the capital he was fighting with this thought even now as the glittering black wings of a rave entered the keep. The fat red face man was standing leaning against the wall as he watched the turmoiled ridden expression on the face of the young silver hair body. His eyes were locked in the direction of Dragonstone. There was a hunger in his stare as Lord Jon was nowhere to be found. It made Mace think that he was killed, not happy with the fact that he had been lied to this whole time.

“Father” A soft-spoken voice filled the air.

As Mace turned to look at his eldest son Willas who was crippled, with a bad leg all thanks to the Martells the very people that we're now fighting against the throne but like him they were fighting for the wrong side.

Willas is intelligent, studious, educated, and kind, and is renowned for breeding the finest hawks, hounds, and horses in the Seven Kingdoms. Though that did not help Mace seeing as how they are in the middle of a war and land would not fight for a lord that cannot even fight for himself. He is mild and courtly, fond of reading books and looking at the stars, but it would do nothing to help them win this battle before him.

But the message that he held in his hand would shake the foundations of this war, in fact, there were two scrolls in his hands both though had the Targaryen seal on them. Mace could feel his breath get caught in his throat as he looked at the unrolled of paper disbelief filling his stare as his son limped over to his father handing him both letters. The rest of the Tyrells made their way into the castle, tight lip frowns and smiles on their face as if they had already read the letters. Among them was his sly mother Olenna.

The twinkle in her eyes told Mace that she did in fact already read the letter but wanted to make sure that he knew what it was before she started to plan their next move. Slowly and carefully Mace began to unroll the paper as not to rip it. The paper was a bit moist from the flight here, Mace watched as the smooth crude words of a man filled his mind. He knew the handwriting to be Stannis.

“ _ My brother sent me to find the Targaryens and kill them before I left. I wanted to write this letter to all the wardens that rested in the kingdom. I do not know if I ever made it back, but I wanted to make sure the whole world knew. Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella are all bastards created through the sexual relationship between Jamie Lannister and Cersei Lannister. His own true-born heir is Gendry, his bastard that he naturalized. Jon Arryn knew about this well and was killed for that knowledge by the Lannisters.”  _

Mace did not know what to do or say his mind was numb and his body was heavy as he looked over to his mother who nodded to the second letter. Mace was not sure what to think about the letter but instead, he turned to the second one that not even Olenna could believe what was said in the letter.

Mace unfurled it slowly and each word that he read was more shocking than the next, “ _ My name is Tyrion Lannister I was sent to the east to kill the Targaryens only to find out that my father sent me on that trip so that I could be slaughter by my own men. While there I was put at the mercy of the Targaryens and they saved me despite all that my family had done. The letter sent with my own is in fact true and sent by Stannis, they were found hidden away in Dragonstone ready to be sent at a moment’s notice. I have seen my brother and sister in sexual relations and confronted them more than a few times. They had no intention of stopping and now three false princes and princesses of the realm. The Targaryens send this to any Warden willing to side and bow before the king and his Queens _ .” 

Mace felt his face and his body heat up as he looked over to his mother, if they could get the North to side with them, they could go to Dragonstone and possibly get a dragon out of this and a grandchild. Olenna’s own mind was working with ways to get the Targaryen to marry into their bloodline. But first, they had to deal with the Blackfyre troops that were resting outside. Mace however was not the only kingdom to get a letter. In the capital, there was a roar of fury.

Robert had been roaring for hours as he looked at the boy before him who was trembling with terror as Cersei vehemently denied the lies that were in that paper. But she knew better than to believe that Robert would believe her. After all, he knew his brother's handwriting, and then there was Tyrion’s letter. Sure, some parts were taken out of this letter like coming to Dragonstone to speak with the king and the Queens of the island.

The whole city was in an uproar, the peasants of the city were slamming against the gates demanding that Gendry be made the crown prince. Tommen and Myrcella had been ripped from their beds early this morning forced into shackles and thrown before the man that they thought was their father. Sansa was looking around with panic in her eyes. Her bright blue eyes were filled with worry and fear as she looked down at her son who was gripping at her legs. Crying not understanding why grandpa was beginning so mean to his father.

She could only smile sadly at him and hush his thready cries even as his voice grew horse, terror-filled her the thought of not being behind the queen of mothering a child of a bastard. The thought revealed her, but it did not overshadow her love for her husband or her son. No matter how foolish it seemed to be. Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest like a hummingbird trying to escape its cage. The thought that not only was she not the queen but that her ugly horse face sister would be queen instead filled her with a jealous rage. Surely, he could just neutralize Joffrey.

She looked onto Robert, his body quivering with murderous fury, venom pooling in his eyes and his course as he roared at Cersei to tell him the truth for the first time ever. The queen's bright green eyes were filled with terror, not sure she wanted to tell the truth through what she wanted did not seem to matter, not at this present moment and time.

If she liked she might die but if she told the truth she would die, they needed each other if they were going to fight against two armies. Robert knew this to be true, but he would be damn if his actual son lost out on the kingdom that was his by right. He looked over the golden hair boy disgust filling his stare as he looked over to his so-called wife that had been laying in the same bed as her brother. He sneered and a murderous vindictive look fell on his face; she looked over to his Kingsguard.

Jamie's glimmering golden hair and emerald eyes were dark and dangerous as he shifted his stare to his children as he looked over to his king. He knew that no matter what he would either be gelded or killed. He could not be sent to the wall not with war right there. Jamie took in a heavy breath as she shifted a fearful gaze to his father who was leering at him. Murderous golden fleck eyes were locked on Jamie leering to the point that he thought that his father’s gaze was going to put holes in his body.

Shaking his head heavy he spoke although be it in a hesitant voice, “These are vicious lies my brother is angry, he has been the greatest shame of our family the moment that he finally realized that he created these lies to make up for his failure in killing the Targaryens and then defecting to their side. This is not true. I am a man of the Kingsguard, the commander at that. I would never break that oath. I might have broken some oaths, but this is not one of them.” Jamie's voice was filled with convictions.

Though many were going to have a hard time taking the side of the kingslayer who broke his oath to kill his king. Robert knew that there was no reason for his brother and Tyrion to come up with the same lie. After all, Stannis hated everybody and he felt shafted because he was given Dragonstone, but he would never use this lie to get ahead. He was not underhanded if there was one thing that Robert could say about his brother was that he was blunt and straightforward.

“Fine but I will not have them in my sight send them to the West with Tywin marshal your forces and your fleet be ready to sail to Dragonstone.” Robert’s voice oozed with disgust.

As Robert leered at them, he shifted to his grandson a young boy that he came to love more than even his children, he was no fool he knew that this child was not his grandchild, but he ended the Lannister now more than ever. After all, there were six dragons that were ready to burn their castle down. Once the war is over, he would have them put to death and make Gendry his heir and their child heir after him.

But while he was sitting here the other wardens in both the Riverlands and the Vale were wondering which side they should choose. For the Greyjoys, it was a simple choice to stout wooden ships against fire-breathing dragons. If the Greyjoys wanted to see another day, they would have to go to Dragonstone much like the others. Even now as Robert was lost in his rage, he did not think to ask the one question that should have been answered.

Where were Ned, Robb, and his wife and child?

* * *

Aegon XII

The sun was bright and blinding as the sun bore down on the shimmering red scales of Ares, Aegon was leaning against the smooth body of the young dragon who was snoozing soundly black balls of smoke were leaving his massive head the size of three carriages stacked on top of each other. Aegon looked down to the pool of warmth in his lap the smooth shimmering slickly locks of Daenerys were curling in beneath his fingers.

Her bright violet eyes were gentle and smooth as she stared up at Aegon, a warm smile pulling at her lips they had never felt so at ease as they did on this island. The east was flourishing and sending supplies every couple of months. Things were perfect, nothing could make it better, even now as they laid on the island, they did not fear death, not like when they were younger in the east.

Both turned their attention to the children that were running about the island among them was Rhaego the son and heir of the man who would mount the world. Rhaego was alive as he fought against Enyo a Valyrian sword in hand as he slashed and hacked the best a six-year-old could. To others, it would seem cruel to make a six-year-old train this hard but Aegon and Daenerys knew that as heir and a Targaryen he would be hunted by all that hated in this world. No to mention that he seemed to love swordplay almost as much as he loved riding Oceanus.

His shimmering silver hair was growing slick with sweat as his dark violet eyes were bright and filled with joy and excitement as he gripped his sword with two hands the joy in his face told them that he had never been happier. He was tall for a 6-year-old he must have gotten his height from his grandfather. There was a bright smile on his face as the blood riders watched their next Khal. He was already starting to grow muscle and was growing more and more skilled.

As he fought with his aunt and good mother, eldest sister was sitting off to the side two-twin daggers in hand as she looked down at the glimmering blade with a smooth poisonous people like her mother’s dragon. She took great pride in those blades since they were crafted by the flames of her own dragon that she named Inferno because a blaze could be bright red or icy blue depending on how hot it got. There was a sweet smile on her face running her fingers along her blades waiting to fight her own mother.

She wore tight black pants and a loose sleeve white shirt with two holsters strapped on either side of her legs, her smoke gray eyes were locked on the blades paying the other no mind her long face was punched in concentration but even then, her ethereal beauty shined through as she tucked her silver curls behind her ears firmly as a sly grin formed on her face like today was going to be the day that she beat her mother.

Her sister and brother were flying not a care in the world as they flew around, their younger siblings were in their lesson for the day. It never felt so perfect, but they knew that joy was going to end as they looked to the horizon and notice the ships that were making their way over to the island. One of the boats had been flying no colors and Aegon knew that had to be his so-called uncle who was making his way over here. The other did not bother to hide their sail the shimmering orange sail with a burnt red sun pierced sun.

Aegon’s lips curled into a sneer as he thought about the prince that was resting in the dungeons or more actually a chamber lifting his backstabbing station. Though the thought of him drove Aegon mad he wanted to take his head, but he knew that he had to allow the boy to live for as long as his life could buy them some more power and even safety in this foreign land.

Aegon began to rise from his seat by Ares and Daenerys, there was a sneer on his face as he looked to the golden sail. The thought that he was going to have to smile and talk with them like they had not sided with the very man that was trying to steal their dragons and their dragon eggs. The thought of sharing their table disgusted Aegon.

“Let us try to play nice you two. Meleys is going to meet with them, let us try and not to fuck this up to them your father is the villain. He left their sister and nephew and niece to be murder because he left without them to start a new life with you and your mother. That does not change unless we change it through words not a sword to the throat. If at the end of the conversation they still say no, then we kill them not before.” Daenerys spoke in a smooth voice.

She knew that allies were going to be needed in the realm, we had half the North but with all the North and High Garden and even Dorne, they would have everything that they needed to take over the rest of them. There was a tension to the air as Aegon rose from the ground with a tight lip smile pulled at his lips as Enyo smiled weakly ruffling the air of her good son.

A warm smile on her face as she looked over to Rhaego and then to Rhae both had a warm smile on her face as the heir and heiress of the kingdoms both would be present for the meeting. Aegon had Blackfyre resting on his face while his sister clutched to dark sister. Daenerys created a sword of her own with her own blood and the fire of Balerion.

“So, you keep telling us,” Enyo spoke with an eye roll.

There was a sly smile pulling at the lips of Aegon as he laughed at the bickering between the wives as they made their way down the steps to the throne room. Rhaego and Rhae were laughing as they rushed down the steps Inferno and Oceanus were flying overhead murderous roars filling the air. The sight of them would have forced any kidnapper or assassin to still with fear.

In fact, the piercing reptilian gaze was locked on the ground searching every inch of the hills. Aegon's eyes were scanning the people that were coming off the ship, there was a strange shock that rushed through the body of Aegon as he looked over to see that there were people peeling off the ship among them beginning a white shadow that he knew how to be a ghost. There were warmth and excitement to the eyes of the crimson stare of the wolf.

The sight forced Aegon's hearts to speed up as he looked over to notice that Helios and the lions were resting at the throne room. They leered at the white hair wolf, a snarl threatening to curl across their furry lips. As Ghost was inches from Aegon that he dropped down to one knee. Pulling the wolf into a one-armed hug while the other was rubbing Ghost's head gently. His crimson stare locked on Aegon as he spoke into his mind.

“It's good to finally meet you in person.” Ghost spoke warmly.

The whispery voice filled Aegon's mind as he looked to the beach to see a hearty frown on the face of a man that had hard stone eyes as he watched the many dragons flying through the sky. There was a warm smile on his mother’s face as she walked onto the beach beside Ned. Harsh stone-gray eyes were locked on Aegon as if he could see the wolf and the boy speaking in their mind. The boy next to him had bright red hair and deep blue eyes that were locked on the dragons that were flying in the sky amazed by the dragons as he stared on in wonder.

Aegon’s own eyes were locked on the massive wolf that was the size of a horse with golden eyes and dark gray fur. He knew that there was a dire wolf but that was not the most shocking thing the most astounding thing has to be the woman beside him that had to be Margery Tyrell. He wonders if this meant that they would have the support they need to beat down the Blackfyre breath and the Baratheons.

Once this meeting is over the war council will start in earnest.


	49. Bow Or Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update   
> there is going to be some major fight scenes in tomorrows chapter so be on the look out

Robb

Robb was not sure what to make of him; the boy that sat on the throne was his age in his early twenties, but Robb could tell that he acted older than what he was. There was a pressure that rippled off him that forced Robb to back up, his eyes scanned the young boy's face. He looked every bit the dragon lord and king that Robb thought he would be.

As he sat on the salt rock throne there was a girl leaning against the throne, Robb could see that there was a sneer on her face. It marred her pretty face and while Robb thought that she was sneering because she did not have a throne to sit in. It was really him and his family that had the young girl sneering. 

She was a great beauty, but Robb could tell that she was younger than him, he shifted to look to the dragon throne to see an even greater beauty with thick silver ringlets and bright violet eyes that were shimmering in the light. She had a sweet and supply smile on her face as she grinned at them, but Robb could tell that there was no joy in her eyes.

The pressure in the air only grew thicker as Rob let his eyes shift to the beast that lay before the throne. Two lions, one male one female, were resting in front of the thrones. Their dangerous brown eyes were locked on us ready to fight and they were not the only lions. I saw quite a few lions darting through the hills. Even now two more lions walked into the room one had tuffets of blond fur and pure white hair.

They were nothing like the lions that were in the Westerlands, they were a dazzling sight and they walked right up to a little boy and girl they could not have been more than five and six. Their eyes were scanning Rob and his family cautiously as their fingers twirled endlessly in their fur. For the first time Robb was aware that his wife and father were at his side.

He turned to Margery and her gentle brown eyes were running through the soft curls of their daughter. Her eyes scanned the lions and the dragons that flew around the sky with ease. Robb could tell that she wanted nothing more than to ride one to touch the soft fur of the dragons. Robb could not help but pity her because he knew that if things went the wrong way then they would all be killed.

Ned on the other hand was aware of all the glares as the doors were forced open once more and he and his son watched as a small group of people came in and he knew them well the leaders of Dorne and the people that gave the Blackfyres their backing they need to try and take over the kingdoms. All of them walked in, even Doran who was plagued with gout was stalking into the room with a fury in his eyes.

The moment that he and Oberyn walked into the room both were eyeing the Targaryens as if they were the surge of the earth each one of their eyes were locked on the boy on the throne wondering where Rhaegar was. Arianne stalked into the room with elegance and hate in her eyes like the last thing that she wanted was to be here with them.

But that air of surprise went right at the window when Ghost stalked into the room snapping at their heels as he rested at Aegon's right hand. He petted the wolf happily with no fear of him, an animal that he just met, Robb, Ned and Margery were in awe of the sight.

“Where is my son” Doran roared with fury and power.

A large man was resting behind him with a massive axe in hand. He was ready to fight. Robb thought that it was strange that they were all allowed to keep their weapons. Were they so arrogant that they did not think that anything we would do to them would harm them? Robb could feel the corners of his lips threatening to curl into a sneer, but he forced it down.

“My father is collecting him and his men.” Aegon spoke blankly.

“You have no right to demand anything! You're lucky that we didn't kill him like we wanted to.” Enyo spoke in a venomous tone.

There was a tension to the air that cut like a board sword, the girl slowly made her way around the throne and Robb was shocked to see that she had a sword on her back. He knew the moment that he saw the fiery hilt that it had to be one of the Targaryens ancestral blades on her back.

Every step that she took the lioness walked with her, a murderous fury filling her bright brown eyes were locked on the Dornish people. They stalked over to the Dornish people as Enjoy stalked over she was running her hands along her leg were glimmering black blades that were small triangle shapes with rings on top they look like blades for close quarters combat.

She looked just as much as a lioness on the prowl as the others did, she was inches from their face earring at each of them as Robb noticed that there were two other people walking into the room. Robb knew that they had to be Viserys and the other daughter of Rhaegar. But his eyes were drawn to the scene of the winter Queen with the snow white hair and silver highlights.

“Enough Enyo if you were their prisoner, I would demand to get you back as quickly as possible.” Aegon spoke in a booming voice.

Enyo rolled her eyes, “That would never happen I would die before throwing away my pride as warrior and begin someone’s prisoner.”

Though his predatory gaze did not say that he was any happier with the Martells then the rest. Instead, he turned his attention to Robb and Margery and the sword that he could feel them sitting under his stare. The moment that he looked to them it was like the whole pressure of the room was slamming against them.

“So, may I take your fathers absence as his choice not to side with us?” Aegon spoke as if his words were steel.

Margery jutted her chin out but pulled her daughter closer to her chest in fear of what might happen, but she had no intention of sounding with the crown even if her good father was an idiot that did not mean that they would be.

“No not at all I am here to pledge in his place the Blackfyres army has been attacking High Garden there was no way for them to get out, so I am here to pledge for them. You have High Garden and all its corps. For whatever good it will do with our gates pillage our food and killing our men.” Margery spoke in a sweet voice. But power spilled in her words.

Aegon had his chin resting on his closed right fist as he let his eyes lazily look them over like they were not worth his time. He looked like he had been contemplating something as a sly smile fell on his face.

“We can take care of the Blackfyres. We had a score to settle from back east if you side with us no harm will come to your family. After all it was Lannister and the Baratheons that killed my family and started this whole war all with the help of the starks. Eddard Stark are you here to pledge the North to our cause?” Aegon spoke coldly.

All eyes were locked on Ned as he watched the way that his nephew regarded him as a trader not as an uncle. Though could they really blame him after all he hunted them down for years on the orders of his best friend. He knew that even if he made the right choice his family would always hate him and there would be serious consequences for him and his wife.

He shifted his stare to Dorne who was holding their breath wanting to see if there was a chance that the king would get two kingdoms in less than a couple minutes. With their overwhelming power they would burn everything to the ground if they wanted to so why would they risk that.

“Though I suppose the North is not for you to pledge, it is after all Robb’s land, and think about this before you answer. I do not care that we are related, you hunted us down like dogs for years. Our supposed family. I do not give a shit if you did not know, Benjen told the truth even then, you continued to hunt us. You impressed loyal friends, so I have no problem taking my dragons not just one or two but all of them and wiping that frozen tundra you call home off the map.” Aegon threatened with ease.

His eyes became half lidded as annoyance flooded his stare. The last thing that he wanted was to talk to the people that had been trying to kill him since before he was born into this world. A murderous sneer pulled at the lips of Enyo as she stalked around Ned like a lion checking for defenses. Ready to take a chunk out of Ned who was looking to Ghost for help. But he found nothing.

“Well looks like the two of you are playing nice '' A voice filled the air as all their heads snapped up to see Lyanna stalking in the room with a bow on her back and fluttering silks dancing around her feet.

Her gray eyes were rolling over to her brother who she knew her whole life but now seemed like a stranger to her. Robb looked over to his taunting cousin was so much cruler than his mother. The true victim in the war was at least his thinking but he had no way of knowing the horrors that all the Targaryens had to endure because of the Starks. But he would soon learn.

“If I say yes then all of my family will be safe, that includes my brothers and sister and my mother.” Robb spoke with conviction.

Grey Wind at his side as bright golden eyes were locked on them daring them to tell his owner no, Aegon on the other hand simply rolled his eyes like it should have been obvious that he was not going to do anything to the family.

“As long as they do not take up arms against me then they may live in the North, if what Ghost tells me is right, your mother and brother are in the Vale. You have two sisters and a brother here in the south. Both are married to either a Lannister bastard or the annualized son of Robert. I am assuming that you want the alive as well. So, if I killed them you have a problem with it right?” Aegon toyed with the idea of killing their spouses but it would only make things worse.

The Stormlands and the Westerlands are funding this war, they were the ones that betrayed his family he would not let that go no matter what. Robb on the other hand seemed conflicted for a moment before he spoke in a smooth voice.

“Kill Joffrey if you want but please leave Gendry, he was a bastard most of his life and is nothing like his father. He is kind and strong and will be loyal to you, if you let him have no real love for his father, I ask this of you and all of the North is yours.” Robb smoked smoothly even though it sounded like he was begging.

Aegon looked over to Ned then his wives as he took in a long steading breath before nodding his head slowly.

“Fine now to the Martells, you thought that my father left here because Arthur forced him to kidnap him from the battlefield because he was not an idiot. I love my father, but he never had the power to fight against Robert, only an idiot would have him rush into battle and die. They took him not the other way around he did not abandon his family. He was ready to fight and die for them. If you want to be pist be pist at Arthur. But this whole moral high you are walking on is bullshit.” Aegon's murderous tone shocked them all.

Doran leered at Aegon, not sure what to think. Rhaegar made his way into the room to see his son's fury. He was touched and aggravated at the same time to think that his own son would regard him as weak. He wanted to yell at him, but he was glad to see his son holding his ground.

The frog prince was thrown at the feet of his father as Daenerys spoke for the first time, “You have a choice, you can bow down and give up your lands and titles to someone more loyal. Or I can kill you all right now.” 

She looked over each of them as they were left with a choice bow or die.


	50. Battle For High Garden

Rhaegar

There was outrage in their eyes as they stood before the king and queens, Oberyn the most furious of them all. His shoulders were rigid as an unspoken fury filled his stare as blood lust rippled over the room, but it was not Oberyn blood lust but Aegon’s. He watched the man if he could, and he knew what the answer to their question was.

“Die then it's fine with me, but before I kill you, you should know that Varys was the reason that Elia was dead. The mad king was the one that forced them to stay in the capital of the city, sure but Varys could have helped her escape and chose not to. He also knew about our escape he could have told you more than a few times and instead he chose not to. You were the idiots that sided with a backstabbing fool like him.” Aegon spoke in a taunting tone.

The whole room stilled as Robb and Margaery stiffened like they wanted to run from the room, Doran on the other hand had this smug look on his face as he looked over to Aegon. The darkness that filled his stare looked like he knew everything before Aegon knew it.

“Oh, and how do you plan on holding Dorne, your predecessor couldn't do it what makes you think that you can. You need the Martell blood line to hold the lands.” Doran spoke in a smooth voice.

Aegon let out a cold bitter laugh as Daenerys no longer willing to hear this slander of her brother or the rest of their families ended the conversation with cruel words. She started to rise from her throne as Enyo started to stalk around the Martells. The murderous fury in her eyes were locked on the Martells as if they were going to burn holes into his body.

“The difference is that Aegon wanted your lands, we don’t, and we don't need your whole family just one. GreyWorm'' Daenerys spoke in a smooth commanding voice.

There was a sneer on her face as the smugness entitled form the stare of Martells melted as Arianne eyes flashed with panic as she shifted her stare from Daenerys to Enyo who had pulled her blade from the scabbard. There was a murderous grin on her face as she smiled warmly, like this was the best moment of her life.

A boy with a blank stare walked forward with a spike helm resting on his head as his hairless cheeks were locked on Arianne who looked like she was ready to flinch away. Grey Worm gripped tightly to her arm ripping her from the clutches of her family. Aegon started to rise as he looked over to Margery.

“We will head to High Garden now it's about time we have our first strike, I'll kill the Blackfyre and put your brother at the head of High Garden. He will marry Arianne and she will stay in high garden. The scorched earth will survive as a warning to Dorne well and the destruction of Sunspear. Arianne remembers that your family was living a chance they chose death. Stay loyal to the crown and be a good little hostage and you live, give Willas a heir for Dorne and one for the reach. Or don't and I will feed you to the dragons your betrayed.” Aegon started to rise.

There was a sneer on his face as Rhaegar watched his son for a moment he wanted to tell him to calm down that murder was not the answer. But he knew that he would not believe that he would be a hypocrite. He wanted to see them dead; they signed up with a group to pass him off as his dead son. The thought of the Martells forced his stomach to flip with disgust. The sneer on his face forces Eragon to roar off in the distance.

Lyanna placed a hand on his arm and spoke in a sweet voice, “It's okay, my love.”

Rhaegar expected Lyanna to be disgusted with her son's actions but instead there was a harsh steel like gaze that screamed no mercy. After all it was their actions that caused them to be hunted down by a pretender in the east. They lost a friend to an ally of the Blackfyres. A sneer pulled at her lips as she thought about the white bull that never got to see the dragons come back to the world.

They both watched on as Oberyn looked ready to fight but Nala stalked forth her golden and white fur began to rise from her meaty shoulders as she stalked forward to the Martells. They had to know that this was not going to go well after all they allowed the Martells to keep their weapons.

But Enyo thrusted her sword at the throat of Doran’s whose fire and rage began to fade away as he struggled to stand on his own two feet. Grimaces of pain began to ripple over his face, a sneer pulled at Quentin's lips after all he was kept was a prisoner for six years and now, he was going to die anyway just because his father could not lie to them even if he went back to Dorne and still sided with the Blackfyres they could have lied at this moment.

“You aren't good enough to fall at our swords, Ser Jorah '' Enyo spoke in a blank voice.

Her eyes shimmered like two murderous pools of light as Ser Jorah stalked across the room opening the massive window of the throne room on either side of the room. Enyo forced them into the doorway and the doors opened. At first none of them knew what was going on as they hefted their blades ready to fight when the fire finally drained from their bodies.

Coming in the left window was a massive blood red head, silt ruby red eyes were locked on the men and women before him. A shudder rushed down their spines as they realized they were going to be burned by the very dragons they were hunting. While the other window opened to show purple a dragon with venomous green eyes and a flaring nostril.

Coming straight down the middle was Balerion, his crimson stare filled with venomous hatred and need to burn all that Dany order. His massive black head was staring back at the group of traitors as Aegon gave them a bored look. Guards were pulling the Starks out of line of fire. Ned was staring on with shock as Aegon stalked down the steps to his throne until he was standing next to his uncle.

“Keep this in mind if you ever think about betraying us again. We will get your daughters back from the Lannister we will even get Joffrey she can live with the shame of marrying a dumb twisted little bastard. They will live in the North and never inherit anything. If Gendry’s does not oppose me then he can have Storm's End but their first born will be fostered by the Targaryens. Bran will be a knight of our guard and you will never leave the North. That is the deal.” Aegon spoke in a smooth voice.

Ned did not know what to say he was forced to stand there and just take it as he watched as three figures burned alive in the throne room. The scent of flesh and fire filled the air as the pungent stabbing smell of sulfur filled the air. The panic screams of the Martells fell on deaf ears as Arianne’s had silent tears streaming down her face like she knew that this was going to happen but wished that it did not.

“Margery will your father consent to the match?” Aegon spoke bleakly.

There was outrage filling his stare as he looked over to the young lady of Winterfell. Her eyes were torn away from the sight of ash and bone resting on the ground to the king that she was beginning to realize but was young but was no fool. She looked over to Robb and then at her daughter who had tears of terror in her eyes and she knew that it was the wrong choice to bring her daughter to his meeting. But the Targaryens acted as if it was no big deal even the children looked calm as they looked over them with pity for them.

“Yes, he will” There was a warm smile on her face hoping to relieve some of the tension between the family but Aegon did not seem like in the smiling mood.

“Enyo, father, you guys head to Dorne and burn that castle down until there is nothing left, Dany and I are going to High Garden to save the Tyrells. Viserys if you want to prove your worth go to the Vale and pick up the remaining Starks. We will leave the capital for last. Robb you are going back to the North and marshal your forces. Let them know that they answer to the dragons.” Aegon spoke and everyone jumped up to follow his orders.

He was just about to walk out of the room when he turned back and smiled, “But your wife and daughter will stay here with us. Your starks are notorious for making foolish decisions.” As he walked out of the room the tension went with him.

The war begins now.

Aegon

Aegon could see the massive hill laden with bright emerald-colored grass, the massive white walls were staring back at him and Dany. The large contingent of forces were resting before the once gorgeous high garden. Heavy and moist the water of the clouds ran gently along their skin as Aegon thought back to Dragonstone there were a lot of moving pieces, but he did his best to focus his mind.

Peeking out just past the clouds Dany soaked in the sight of the reversed Targaryen banner showing off their Blackfyre roots. They could see the triangular tips of the battering rams and the warm air dance along Dany’s scalps as silver hair was pinned into a bun. Her eyes were scanning every inch of the ground as the heat of Balerion’s flooded her body.

Among them was a boy with silver hair and deep violet eyes the moment that Aegon’s eyes landed on the boy he knew who he was the Blackfyre brat was leering at them. His eyes were wide with doubt and terror as Aegon searched the ground looking for Jon, but he did not see his father’s long-lost friend. Instead, he turned his eyes to the weapons that would try to take to the kingdoms.

There are battering ram staring at Agon and Daenerys and freshly fallen trees laying on ground chopped up and used only the best part of the tree for their rams. Aegon let his eyes look over to side the massive scorpion bolts that were resting on the ground as if they knew that Aegon and his family would be coming for him at any moment. Varys must have been keeping on them and sent word the moment that they landed in the capital.

The bright green grass stared back at them as they turned to look at the vast yet small army, the golden company was staring up at them hunger filling their stare to take the castle but the moment that they noticed the dragons something in them stilled.

Aegon’s heart thundered in his chest as Dany scanned the land of men before them, her eyes landing on the massive castle where a family was watching with wide eyes. As if they truly could not believe that dragons were real let alone here to save them. Ares and Balerion let out a murderous screech as they darted through the air. The green ground came in close as men snapped their eyes up to the sky terror filling their eyes as they looked to them with doubt shimming in them.

Both have feral grins on their face as they thought about burying their cause of their heart ache. With each thunderous roar of Ares echoing in Aegon's ear he wanted nothing more than to get on the ground and cut them down with his ancient sword. The men at the archer tower snapped up as bright crossbows stared back at them. Dany could hear the men screaming as they twirled around their massive crossbows that she knew were scorpions. 

But the moment they saw a streak of red and black running across the sky the men on the other side of the wall were renewed as they screeched with power and real life, glad that their golden rose sent them someone who could save them all. Daenerys enjoyed the looks of panic looks of the golden company. 

There was joy in their face as they spoke in unison. "Dracarys"

The chaos that swirled around the battlefield filled their ears; panic screams filled the air as the men loomed below glimmering golden banners fell away as jade flames burst against the ground. The grass curled a turned black as char as the scream filled their ears almost as loud as the sound of the dragons cracking wings. They looked over to see the polished ivory gates opening as an arrow came flying down to the ground.

With a loud roar, men rushed through the fields and the panicked neighbors filled my ears as they looked to see the crazed horse running around. Their thick manes whipping in the wind as crimson and black flames crept up their neck and threatening to engulf their skull at any moment. 

Ares roared with rage as the thick heavy muscle constricted as the horse’s whine with panic. Black, brown, silver, white and red mares were thrown into a frenzied panic as they reared back on their legs. Balerion began to circle the battlefield, bright black and red flames burning those horses and anyone that got in their path. The scent of burning flesh and hay filled their nose as men rushed to help put out the flames.

“Dracarys!” Aegon roared.

The wings whip up the air that swirled around Aegon slapping against his face as Ares leathery lips curled over shimmering dagger black teeth. Flames licked against his skin as he reveled in the sensation. He watched as the flames and black smoke swallowed the ground as the mud bubbled into the soup. 

The men screeched as the field was set aflame, waves of terror rushed off the army as he watched Lord Mace slammed into the right flank of the army, slashing, and hacking of metal began to fill their ears as ash fell like rain from the sky.

The sizzling of blood filled Aegon's ears as Ares banked right then left. The air grew pressurized as his mouth clamped shut. Ascending high into the sky, as the ground began to fade, he could see the crimson flames shifting and moved along the air. 

Balerion had better luck dodge as Dany’s eyes flickered with black flames, his long curling black tail ripped apart the scorpion as flames danced along his black lips. His long coiling neck darting down as he snatched men off the ground. Black teeth ripping through their tender flesh. Their bodies bursting like balloons of blood and death.

The panic screams filled Dany’s ears as she watched Aegon climb higher into the sky, but that did not distract her. Long black rattling chains shook against the thick wooden frame of the crossbow. The loud screeches of the horse grew in intensity and sound as the scent of death and ash built in the heated air. 

The sounds of anguish and pain filled Dany’s ears as the scent of burning flesh and hair filled her nose, black smoke billowed into the sky blocking out the bright blue sky. She could hear men screaming begging for water, their voices shrill and panicked. She did not feel pity all she could think about was all the spies and the hiding they did when the dragons were nothing but Hatchlings. She thought about the white bull and how he died protecting her from not only the Blackfyres twisted plans but also her own brother. She would not feel pity for them even as she watched Ares climbing higher, she did not move.

She kept her eyes on the ground as the black smoke choked out their line of sight and a barrage of black flames burned the elephants. Their gray bodies begin eaten away by the ever-consuming hells flames unleashed from Balerion’s mouth.

Bright red and black flames painted the landscaping killing the grass and anything else that got in their way. But then a large arrow larger than anything Aegon had seen flew threatening to pierce Ares but he avoided it with skill. Watching as his wife rampaged through the black smoke.

“Take out that scorpion” Aegon roared with rage.

Rage ran over Aegon spilling into the mark on his hand that connected him to Ares, fueling the crimson dragon as furious screeches echoed loudly in the air. Wind rushed past Aegon's face as he darted through the sky. Flashes of black scales could be seen through the gapes of the black smoke. But Aegon was not scared; he knew that Dany was immune to dragon flames and Balerion would not be injured by Ares' flames.

Red flames engulfed the wooden contraption until nothing, but ash remained. The furious roars shook the ground, and he could hear the thousand thundering screams of men as they rushed through the burning fields. Aegon could see the way that they moved through the gaping black smoke. Dany took back up towards the sky to hide in the cloud. But Aegon got closer to the ground when he saw Maegor fighting off the Tyrells men with ease. After all they were not known for their fighting skill.

Ares dropped onto the ground with a heavy thud, using his winged arms to stand up he let out a furious roar letting bright dazzling red flames bathed the ground as Aegon lurched forward a coldness filled his body as my body grew rigid and murderous. Smoke swirled around him, but it did not choke him.

He soaked in the blood drenched air as he roared with murderous fury over the battlefield. “Come die Blackfyre the way that your father did!!”

The moment that he yelled it was like Maegor had super hearing, his violet blue eyes locked on Aegon as he lurched forward. Blood erupted as Aegon fought his way to the boy that had been trying to kill them for a while.

He slashed and hacked away at heads, body parts, and organs alike. Fury filled his body until he was standing before Maegor. There was a smugness in his body as he held his blade out and stood before Maegor without any fear.

“You father died like a coward; will you die the same?” Aegon spoke coldly.

Aegon hated the boy before him, it was his father that created that stupid little plan to marry Dany to the Dothraki it was his father’s fault that the white bull was dead. Sure, Drogo was the one that killed him for sure, but it was Illyrio that invited those people into his house and did nothing as they slaughtered a knight and friend. He would make him suffer.

Moving in a blink of an eye Aegon was looming over Maegor his blade came down with a killing blow. With a mighty swing of Maegor's own sword sparks flew as his blade hit against Maegor’s. There was a coldness in Maegor’s eyes as he sneered at him.

“I will avenge my father and I will take your dragons and your wives.” Maegor spoke when he should not have.

A blind fury filled Aegon as he dashed forward, he would not let him live to fulfill that threat, Aegon roared with rage, his lips curling over his teeth making him look more like a wild animal, his thick curls looked like the mane of a wild beast. His eyes silt like that of a dragon, he was not a man but a silver hair monster.

Maegor was not going to back down he dashed forward as Aegon met him with a furious roar of his own. The whole while Balerion was flying overhead letting our random burst of fire as Dany danced across the battlefield cutting down whoever she could on her way over to Aegon. Hoping to fight this for together but she knew that she was not going to make it there in time.

All eyes were left on them, Aegon wanted to end this and he wanted to end it now, he slashed upwards in a vertical arch with his right hand, his speed was startling and filled with a new power that Maegor knew he could not match. Dany was running across the field no sprinting as she stood beside Aegon wanting to see the light leave his eye. Her own blade held forgotten her hand. She did not want to kill him just wanted to see him killed.

A single-handed thrust of his blade came rushing at Maegor, only the thickly plated armor did not stop the blade as he cut right and threw the blade until it shattered before slicing through his arm as well. Maegor could feel my chest growing slick with blood as blood starts to fill his throat. The taste of copper harsh on his tongue as his whole body was starting to go numb.

Daenerys and Aegon looked on the verge of kissing with mad passion but instead they stood firm in front of the dying boy. Hunger and hate filling their stare as they looked to the boy that loomed over them.

Maegor could feel his strength leaving him as indigo and violet eyes were the last thing that he saw. The darkness that was enclosing him was cold and seeping. The last thing he heard was the Tryells rushing to greet them. They won this battle, and it was just the beginning. 


	51. The Vale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short tomorrows will be longer  
> Im getting close to wrapping this up

Viserys

The wind roared in his ears as he looked down to see the Eyrie resting in front of him all he could think about was the cold look on Aegon's face as he hunted him down. His indigo darkens to a deep violet as a hatred rippled off him. He still did not trust Viserys and while that wounded him, he knew that it was a well-earned doubt.

Aegon was certain that he would fail so when Mel asked to join Viserys, Aegon said no, he would fail or succeed on his own he would not have others to help him. So, he soared through the bright blue sky, the clouds whips from the power of Arrax's wings. His glittering gold and cream skin shimmered in the light sizzling against his skin.

Viserys drank in the sight of the Eyrie, the Eyrie is the smallest of the great castles, consisting only of a cluster of seven slim, white towers bunched tightly together. They can hold up to five hundred men. The castle is made of fine white stone and sat on the jagged cliffs. Viserys was watching the Eyrie for a moment before noticing there was a shrill scream.

Viserys darted through the air the wind grew louder and louder, as he notices the shrill scream was a man, his face bright red filled with terror. His hair whipping at his eyes he slammed into the shape black rock spikes. Viserys was confused and terrified he had no clue where he had fallen from but instead, he focused.

Diving beneath the Vale to see that there was a large hole big enough for a person to rest in. Viserys was eyeballing the hole he carefully stood on Arrax and launched himself high into the air. Gripping tightly to the edge Viserys pulled himself up as he looked up into the room, there were people all around gasping as they watched Viserys come into the room. Viserys eyes scanned the room as he noticed three men resting before the hole.

They were on their knee’s tears streaming down their face as they begged the lady of the Vale to release them. A cold steel like gaze was locked on them but was now widening with doubt as Viserys turned to see the whole that presided over the strong Vale knights.

Lady Arryn had sat before them, a boy resting in her lips still sucking on her tit, Viserys was revolted by the sight and was forced to blanch away. He studied the women before him, Lysa was a pretty, slender, high-breasted girl in her youth, dimpled and delicate. She has grown thick of body by her early thirties, however, because of her many pregnancies, miscarriages, and stillbirths. Despite being two years younger than her sister Catelyn, Lysa looks ten years older.

Viserys shifted to see that there were two people standing beside her, one was her sister to have a disgust look hidden behind a blank mask, her eyes were darkening with disgust that she would not let her face show.

Catelyn is beautiful, with fair skin, long auburn hair, and blue eyes. She has long fingers and high cheekbones. She looked over to her own son whose lips were curling in disgust; he did not bother to hide his true feelings. He scanned his aunt and cousin in disgust because his cousin fed like he was still a babe.

He was only nine, but he seemed to be filled with pride as Viserys noticed the massive black dire-wolf that had been resting at his side. Rickon favors his mother Catelyn in appearance, having the bright blue eyes, auburn hair, and easy smile of a Tully. Though now he was not smiling with shocked gasps filling the air they shifted their stare to see the silver hair prince that was standing around.

He had a sword on his hip and had gotten good to beat new swords men, but skilled warriors could kill him with ease, but then again all he had to do was jump through the moon door and be safe on the back of Arrax.

“Lady Stark, Eddard Stark and Robert Stark have requested I come get you, the capital will lose even now the Targaryen forces are making mincemeat of the forces. The Blackfyres are already dead, Dorne will fall next. Lady Arryn my nephew the king is willing to take your surrender if not you will be killed.” Viserys spoke in a smooth voice.

He looked up and down over the three Tullys, even if they went by different names, they looked like Tully, so they were Tullys. Viserys watched as Catelyn's eyebrows began to shut up furrowing in confusion as she looked over Viserys not understanding why her husband would ever side with them. Viserys looked over each of them and the confusion suddenly started to make sense.

“You did hear, did you? Lyanna summoned him to the island, Rob, and his wife and their child are resting on our island right now. We have dragons there I no way for you to win, your husband saw this and wised up. It's time to go.” Viserys put a little bit more pressure in his voice.

There were doubting his words he could see the tension as the mad Lady of the Vale through a hand up and there were men gripping tightly to his shoulder.

“The dragons are long since dead” Lysa screamed out.

Viserys thought that this lady was crazier than the mad hatter.

He shook his head as Robin popped his head off the tit of his mother. His eyes scanning Viserys face as excitement at the thought of the dragons. Viserys shook his head as he looked over to Caitlyn, she looked to be really considering it. Viserys knew that she was going to take more convincing.

“Ned wanted me to tell you Lyanna is the joy of the Winter” Viserys spoke warmly.

He did not know why this would be so important, but Catelyn remembered the talk she had with her husband when they heard that Robb was going to name Lyanna after her dead aunt and that she would be the new light of the North, a wild beauty who would drive the whole castle crazy. The thought forced a smile on her face. If dragons were real, then they had no choice of winning and beginning here would kill them.

“Throw the three of them in a sky cell!!” Lysa roared.

Viserys did not know if it was the look that Catelyn gave him or if it was the fact that he brought up dragons, but she had gone mad and now men were gripping at the arms of the Starks as they were forced down the hall into a cell.

The thick gray walls stared back at Viserys and the Starks, their eyes wide with doubt but she wolfs stalked over to Viserys jabbing a pointed long finger at him as she spoke in a steel like voice.

“What now? We are locked in this cell!” She roared with outrage.

Viserys shrugged his shoulder as he looked over to Rickon who looked over Viserys with confusion and intrigue as he stared at Viserys with a questioning gaze. He looked up and down like he expected more from a supposed dragon rider.

“Are we locked in or do we have a way out.” Even as Viserys spoke in a warm voice.

He looked over to the massive hole to see that Arrax was breaking from the clouds he let out a furious screech, shimmering pale skin shone in the light as golden accents the color of molten gold shocked Catelyn and Rickon. His long coiling neck was whipping back and forth like he was fighting the urge to burn down the castle.

Viserys stalked over to the edge watching as Arrax arrived at a quick pace.

“It's time to go but before we do, I'm sure that Aegon would have liked to gain an ally and a sign of force is just as good as a sign of peace. I will get the Vale on the side of my nephew to make up for all my wrongdoing.” Viserys spoke in a cool voice.

He hopped onto the back of his golden dragon as he held a handout.

“Shall we go?” Viserys cocked his eyebrow up.

* * *

Lysa

Madness and hysteria swirled around the way as Lysa felt the flush of heat as a frenzied roar ripped Lysa and her knights, the loud clapping of wings began to fill her ears. A stampede broke out as they all rushed to the balcony watching as a cream dragon with golden accents and wide wings that were encompassing the ground.

The once solid snow-covered land bubbled and was reduced to the soup as bright cream and golden flames bathed the ground. The gates burst apart as splinters as the men standing at the gates were swallowed in a barrage of flames burning them to ash. Man dived to the right and the left doing their best to avoid the flames. 

The dirt exploded to the right as a thick steady stream of flames reached the men that were protecting the gate. Lysa was horrified as her eyes widen, Robin was rushing to the railing tipping over it as he watched the destruction that threatened to swallow them all whole.

Arrax let out a screech of fury as he flew overhead disappearing in the black smoke and only reappearing to burn the enemy force. Shrill screams filled the air Lysa was forced to watch as the bright silver metal turned a bright red melting into their skin melding together. Horses in the stables neighed with fear, as men in blue and white armor were rushing to calm them down as massive hooves slammed against their heads killing them.

Thick black smoke and the scent of sulfur and rotten eggs forced all the lords to blanch away as tears formed in the corner of their eyes as a few pinched their noses hoping to escape the scent. The sky began to Darken as Lysa noticed her sister and his son resting on the dragons' back. Her eyes widen with doubt and fear.

_Dragons were not real._

It was the single thought that rushed in her mind but as she watched the black smoke part as bright cream color skin appeared, taunting her as he dove through the air. With furious wings Viserys spoke in a booming voice.

“Bend the knee now and you make it out of this alive. Or don’t and I will burn you to ash.” Viserys roared with power.


	52. Destruction Of Dorne

Enyo

The white clouds shifted just high above her, excitement bubbled in her chest as she thought about the Martells and that only fueled her rage. Enyo looked over to her father and there was a sad smile on his face like he was remembering the good old days before the revolt.

Water slapped beneath Toxicana’s wings as she let out a fierce roar that made the whole area standstill.

There was a coldness that burned in Enyo’s eyed Dorne, she could see people rushing to their post scorpions lined the wall they knew that they had dragons and they were ready for them. But they were ready too, they purposely waited a few years so that their dragons would be old enough to withstand any attack that comes their way.

But even as they gripped to the large overgrown crossbows as Enyo did not feel a sinking sense of trepidation and fear never welled in her stomach.

Instead, there was joy filling her body as she looked over to her father who did not seem to be enjoying it the same way that she was, his face was stony as grief filled his stare as he roared Eragon. Enyo knew her good mother and siblings were never far from home. 

Enyo did not pay her father another moment of attention; she dived through the air starting with the port.

“Dracarys” She roared

Her heart thunder with that one word, shrieks of joy filled my ears as Enyo leaned into the smooth rippling heat filled body. Enyo watched the ships come alive with poisonous purple flames burst out of her mouth, purple flames licking her black teeth. Flames darted through the sky. Enyo circled the small fleet, watched as people screamed in utter agony, the familiar scent of burning flesh filled the air as screams blood-curdling and bone-chilling filled with pain erupted into the air.

Enyo could see men in armor running through the docks. Short swords were drawn, and blood lust filled their eyes as they ran through the docks. Mingling with the donnish men and women screaming in terror as they tried to run from the port. Enyo looked over her shoulder to see Eragon his bright bronze orbs were locked on the might seat of the Martells. Vengeance and hate filled his stare with all the emotions that Rhaegar refused to show. But he can lie through his dragon's actions.

Enyo pulled back on Toxicana’s spikes forcing her to float in mid-air. Ships were sunk or sinking, poisonous flames danced on the waves. Enyo watched the fleet burn for a little bit, their fleet was not all that large, but she was sure they would call it mighty.

Enyo flew through the sky darting over the docks, the thick wooden planks were staring at her, there were people running while a few collapsed on the ground. Their eyes wide with doubt as fear and pain filled their stares. Some even soiled themselves but still Enyo did not feel pity only a sinking hatred that would not disappear.

A sneer pulled at her lips as she unleashed a barrage of flames, poisonous purple flames darted forth, bursting apart the wood as black water exploded upwards trying to down the flames as the docks began to give way. Some drowned others wished that they did, as their skin turned bright red and their bodies burst apart from the force of the flames.

The air was hot and arrived brushing against her skin as she flew through the city taking off further inland. There was a shadow descending the red sand as Enyo watched as soldiers came rushing down on them. Wooden shafts and glimmering steel tips were rushing at them as they took off fast shooting while running in the hopes of taking out the only weak spot of a dragon. Their eyes. Poisonous flames shot down from above as men screened in agony and the scent of cooking meat and melted metal filled my nose.

With each blast of purple flames, the sands turned the sands black as night, ash turning the sand even darker. Enyo had a sly smile on her face as she began to take off into the small makeshift city of Sunspear. Toxicana’s long coiling neck whipped back and forth, her glimmering black teeth painted red as razor sharp teeth ripped through their mocha and white flesh.

Panic screams filled the air as Enyo looked down through narrowed eyes as if to say that they are not worthy to breathe her air. A sly smile pulled at her lips as she watched her father go to work.

* * *

Rhaegar

There was doubt, hatred, worry, and pain all mingled in Rhaegar’s chest, the last time that he was here he had taken Rhaenys to the water gardens. Greif hung in his heart only for a moment, he lost his family the same as Martells, yet they were the only ones that could grieve. A sneer pulled at his lips he would not let this stand.

Rhaegar looked around to see that there were people rushing after him, Eragon dropped on the ground wanting to get up close and personal with the Martell forces. Wing's arms were holding him up as his long coiling tail whipped at the small buildings. Bronze spies tore apart the buildings.

While Eragon's tail whipped at the buildings his long coiling neck darted forth, black teeth sinking through the lightweight armor of the infantryman. Eragon held onto the body even as blood spilled out of the men’s wounds. Rhaegar did not know what Eragon was doing, but he watched as bright green and bronze veined flames burst forth, shrill screams will the air as the flawing man in the jaws of Eragon went still.

All the men before them suddenly felt a chill like they knew that they were going to die, and someone was walking over the grave. A sly grin pulled at Rhaegar's face and he knew that Eragon was beginning to make a point that they picked the wrong dragon rider to mess with.

A sneer pulled at his lips as Eragon’s jaw snapped back wide enough to unleash a furious blaze. Spark exploded as red grains were blown upwards turned black as the night sky. The scent of burning flesh and shit filled the air as Eragon moved from the bodies collapsed on the ground to the buildings.

Rhaegar watched as the bricks began to bubble and boil as the bricks began to melt off the buildings; they were small, nothing more than hovels and tents. But still it was a satisfying sight to see. Once he was sure that the buildings were capsized, he took back off into the sky making his way over to Sunspear.

Enyo was following up from the rear making her way over to the massive hold fast much like her father. As they flew over the massive castle there were men on the walls and hiding behind the walls. As if they expected their lords to come back fine. They were foolish if they thought that they would make it out of this alive.

“Dracarys” Enyo and her father spoke in unison.

It is only one word, but it is all that needed to be said, Rhaegar could feel the heat in Eragon pooling in his throat and chest, like water building behind a dam. Bright bronze and green flames ripped through the sky as screams and burning scents filled my nose.

A mighty battle roar filled in the air as the ground shook with the furious screeches of Toxicana, jade flames danced along the sky as veins of bronze shone in the light. Thick black teeth came slamming down on a man as screeches of pain and terror filled the air.

His long coiling neck came darting down ripping people apart as the jade flames and thick black smoke raced in the air dancing and licking against their skin as they turned black as night and the scent of puss bubbled up against their pale skin.

The scent of burning mud and bricks forced both Targaryens to gain a feral grin, they eyeballed to look back to the wall, shit, and death pungent and sharp attacked this sense as Rhaegar gripped tighter to Eragon’s spikes. Thick black smoke swirled around his eyes as Eragon’s tails whipped at the scorpion, reducing them to splitters as his spiked tail sliced through the flesh of the men that were meaning the weapons.

The once-mighty walls of Sunspear began to burn up until nothing but black smoke and the burning scent of cement-filled my nose. The heavy splash of half melted rocks spilled over the blackened sands. Smoldering corpses fell from the walls like rain. 

Power radiated in Eragon’s body as Rhaegar gripped tighter to the spike, a hunger filling him the more he burned the wall the more vindicated he felt. A fresh wave of hate slammed against his body as flashes of Elia’s smile and laughter of Rhaenys filled his mind taunting him. Telling him that he would never get them back no matter how hard he fought they would be dead, and he would still be forced to keep on living.

The whole castle was swallowed with flames, the mighty seat, the towers all of it was wiped off the map. He was filled with a great sense of hatred and that was never going to ebbed so he would burn away the cause of his hatred. He began to fly around in a circle, bright green flames bathing the massive tower pouring flames upon flame until there was nothing left with the stub of a melted candle.

While he burned the tower, Enyo corralled what was left of the men and women forcing them to watch as Rhaegar roared with fury and once he was done burning down every bit of the castle.

“You see this destruction, thank the Martells!” She roared with convection.

Eragon landed on the destroyed castle, Rhaegar sat on the back of the dragons watching his daughter loom over the ground.

“All this death you see, thank the Martells!!!” She roared with hatred.

Letting the words sink in she spoke in a booming voice.

“The Martells were given a choice they could bow before us or die, they chose death, we told them the truth that my father left not by choice but by force but his most trusted guard Ser Arthur but still they refused to listen even though we have many witnesses that testified. Still, they refused; they knew that it would mean their death and all yours, but they refused to be wrong. They all died but one Princess Arianne was left alive. She will rule here with a trusted ally though there is nothing left to rule. Now you are given the choice. Bow or die, we will take back what is ours with fire and blood!!” Enyo roared with hatred.

A razor echoed by two dragons that had fury in their stare, utter terror forcing them to their knees.

Dorne had fallen, the reach was there, and the Vale was there. The capital was next and then the Westerlands.


End file.
